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florencemtrash · 9 months

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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Five

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warning: Gore, violence, some angst

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

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Meryl struggled forward, trying to keep from tripping on his floor-length robes. A head of ivory hair trailed out after him at a leisurely pace. A blood red hand at her side gripped a slick shortsword. The blade mimicked the cruel curve of her horns.

You remembered her from the party.

Teal silk and blood and the lake.

Koschei.

His hand dove into the folds of his robe, withdrawing a dull knife. You caught her smile before she dodged Meryl’s swift kick, sword arching down in a swing that cut cleanly through his back leg.

You didn’t stay to watch the second swing that nearly separated Meryl’s head from his shoulders. The street was still eerily silent.

Meryl hadn’t gotten the chance to raise the alarms.

You ran to the other side of your apartment, knocking one of the windows open. The smell of smoke, acrid and bitter, flooded your nose. Your stomach turned, nearly emptying itself of your dinner.

A blanket of haze covered the bottom floor, the flickering of flames beginning to lick up the outer edges of the massive room.

The Alcove - your home - was on fire.

Your apartment was built separately from The Alcove with no direct path linking the two together. Normally you would simply walk down the stairs and enter through one of The Alcove’s main entrances with its hand-carved archways and stone pegasuses. But with the murderous female lurking outside, that was simply not an option.

You pulled the neck of your sweater up and over the lower half of your face, ignoring the stinging of your eyes. You steeled your nerves and slid your foot out, finding purchase on the decorative molding that lined the walls. Many times you’d thought about scaling the walls instead of trekking down dozens of flights of stairs. You’d never actually done it.

The soft skin of your palms protested as you shimmied your way down and then jumped the last ten feet onto the walkway. There was no grace in your movements, and no time to dwell on the rough landing before you began flying down the stairs, begging the Mother and Meryl to give you time to cross the expanse of the library.

Meryl’s apartment lay on the opposite side of The Alcove on the first floor, and unlike your apartment, had a door leading directly to the stacks. The white rune, carved into Meryl’s door, stared at you like the eye of a god.

Some vague myths about ancient giants crossed your mind. They’d been worshiped in these lands before the rise of the High Lords with brains so vast you could climb in through their ears and walk amongst the grooves like a child in a corn maze. You felt like that child now, the familiar turns and patterns of the atheneum slipping away into mist.

You had no patience to walk the last flights of stairs. You threw yourself off the lower walkway, ankle twisted painfully beneath you as you crumpled onto the floor.

Just make it to the door. Just make it to the door.

The first duty of a Librarian was to save the atheneum. Always.

Again that white rune stared at you from across the floor, winking with the flashes of firelight as the flames gorged themselves on book pages.

Save the Alcove.

You ignored the pain in your leg, running towards the door with gritted teeth. Three bodies littered the floor, blood blossoming around colorful robes like roses in springtime.

Save the Alcove.

You wrenched the knife from the sliver in the wall, slicing your palm open with a sharp intake of breath. Warm blood spilled out, dripping onto the floor and then down the wall as you pressed your palm against the rune, muttering the words all Librarians knew by heart - words that would seal The Alcove from the outside world and draw all oxygen from within.

“Beali tchnemonon aschzernai belar-” The rune began to glow, rivers of white light tracing the carving on the door. The doors began to groan as threads of magic shot outward, weaving through the stone and preparing to seal it shut.

“Stop. Say nothing.” A voice said, soft as velvet and hard as scales.

Your tongue froze up, the rune dimming as teeth sank into the soft flesh of your mind and began to tear through your mental shields.

___________

Azriel chewed carefully, washing down the meat with a swig of sweet wine. All throughout dinner Helion had been glowering at him, one hand gripping the golden hilt of his steak knife like he was prepared to aim it between Azriel’s eyes.

“Did you spend the whole day with her?” Feyre had asked him when he’d finally arrived for dinner twenty minutes late.

Everyone else was dressed in their court attire. Even Cassian had changed out of his leathers and was currently pulling at the high collar of his shirt. But not Azriel. He’d arrived late in plain clothes, hair disheveled and face impassive. He gave a nod in response to Feyre’s silent question before settling down beside Cassian. His brother threw him a knowing wink.

Rhysand looked pleased with himself. Feyre looked pleased. Everyone was pleased… everyone but Helion.

“Finally! The Shadowsinger arrives!” The comment rolled off his tongue and fell flat, “Now we can eat.”

“I apologize, Helion. I lost track of time.” Azriel said truthfully. He had lost track of time. He wished he’d lost track of it for longer. Then he might still be in your living room, dreaming about kissing you.

Dinner was a business affair. Theories about Koschei’s next plans punctuated by the appearance of roasted chestnuts, soft-boiled quail eggs, honey rolls, and stuffed duck on the table.

“He can’t escape the lake.” Rhysand said, “Though the gods know he’s trying.”

“He can’t escape yet.” Helion countered, brows furrowed in concern, “There’s a piece we’re missing to this.”

“The Cauldron.” Feyre ran a lazy finger over the lip of her wineglass to disguise the unease settling in her stomach, “He’s searching for it.” She tilted her head towards Azriel, “Az found evidence that some of Koschei’s followers have been breaking into the temples further up north.”

Helion shook his head, “It wouldn’t do them any good to search an old hiding place. And it’s not like the legs of the Cauldron are with the priestesses anymore. They must be looking for something else.”

“What else is in the temples except old books and ceremonial artifacts?” Cassian asked.

“Old books can sometimes be the most powerful objects in the world.” Helion said with a small smirk, “I wouldn’t look down on them so much.”

“Tell that to a sword.”

“Tell that to a two-thousand page text thrown at your head.”

Cassian grinned, “I would dodge it. Easy.”

“With that inflated head of yours, I’d hardly be able to miss.”

Azriel smiled inwardly. That sounded like something you might say. Not even four hours since he’d last seen you and he was missing your gentle smile, the crease in your brows when you read, the occasional jangle of your bracelets when you shook out the cramps in your wrist.

Feyre thought long and hard, staring at the surface of her wine like the answers might materialize there. She couldn’t get her mind off the Cauldron. The most important events that had taken place in the last fifty years could be tied back to its magic. The magic that currently flooded through Nesta and Elain’s veins.

With its power anything seemed possible - even separating a deity like Koschei from the lake where he’d been confined for centuries.

“What if they’re not looking for the Cauldron itself?” Everyone looked at her, waiting to hear the High Lady’s next words. “What if they’re just looking for something tied to it?”

Cassian dropped his knife to the table with a clang.

“Nesta.” He breathed. He immediately reached out across the bond, feeling Nesta stir on the other side. She was still safe in Velaris, although he pitied any poor soul that tried to go after her.

“Or Elain.” Feyre continued.

It’s no secret they were Made. They wouldn’t need to break into a temple to figure that out or to find out where they’re staying. Rhysand sent his bonds down the bond, one hand reaching out to rub her thigh.

Nesta and Elain could handle themselves, but that didn’t mean Feyre could shed the protective nature she’d developed through her formative human years.

Who else then? Who else has taken power from the Cauldron?

Jurian.

He’s human. He has no magic that Koschei could want. And the human queen has been long dead too.

Helion glanced at Cassian who only waved him off. Rhys and Feyre did this often - getting lost in their private conversations and only sharing their thoughts at the very end.

Meanwhile, Azriel was having his own private thoughts.

Immunity, the innate biological process of recognizing and protecting against foreign entities, is a phenomenon that can be extended and applied to magic.

“How does it apply to mating bonds?” Azriel asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the room.

The fire crackled steadily, warming your back as you sat hunched over a volume titled “An Exegesis on the Works of Bhenaui The Stone Giant”.

“Hmmm?” You mumbled.

He pointed to the last page of your paper where an introductory sentence on mating bonds had ended abruptly.

“You didn’t finish your thought.”

“Well, that’s because I’m not completely sure what my thoughts are… at least not yet.”

“Would you tell me your thoughts? Even if you’re not sure?”

You motioned for him to hand it over, the papers floating over to you on a phantom hand made of shadows. You flipped through the pages absentmindedly, your previous thoughts coming to mind as you held your work.

“Parents, children, siblings - they all tend to have similar forms of magic. Magic that recognizes family members the same way that blood does.”

Azriel nodded. He’d already read that section of your paper. Although the thought of sharing some magical connection with his half-brothers and father made his stomach turn, he couldn’t deny your logic.

“I always thought that mating bonds must be some special extension of that. Magic that’s not the same, but perfectly complementary.”

“Like the difference between two sets of keys, versus a key and a lock.”

“Maybe? I suppose that’s not a terrible analogy to make, but I’m not sure.” You shot him a smile, “You’re beginning to think like a Librarian, Azriel.”

His heart sang in his chest, shadows flurrying around him. You’d quickly learned that his shadows gave away more than his face ever would.

“What an insult to Librarians.” He quipped.

You snorted and shook your head, tossing a pen at his head. He caught it easily, just as you knew he would.

A faint flutter of panic grew in the background of his mind, unprompted and unexpected. He pushed it to the side, focusing his attention back on what you’d told him back at your apartment.

“Magic that recognizes family members the same way that blood does.”

Koschei had been brother to The Weaver and The Bone Carver - both dead after centuries, if not more, of confinement to The Prison and The Cottage. It didn’t make sense for him to be searching for them. Perhaps he wanted the Cauldron to bring them back from the dead, but even that seemed like the stretch. Koschei didn’t strike Azriel as the kind of being to care for the safety and life of his siblings.

If Azriel were in Koschei’s position, he wouldn’t be after the Cauldron. Not necessarily. The thing he’d really be dying to know was who had separated him from his power, and how.

“Magic that’s not the same, but perfectly complementary.”

Like a lock and a key.

“Uh… Azriel?” Cassian gently grabbed Azriel’s shoulder, shaking him.

Inky shadows climbed up his hand, the light of his red siphons swallowed up by the darkness that had begun to pour off of Azriel.

That panic was steadily growing into something he couldn’t ignore and he couldn’t stop thinking of you. You with your brilliant ideas and a theory that he still couldn’t quite grasp, like he was trying to hold salt water in his hands.

“Something-something feels wrong.” Azriel gasped out, a scarred hand clutching at his chest. “Cass, something’s not right. Something’s not right.” He repeated the words until he finally recognized what was wrong.

It wasn’t his panic that he was feeling. It was yours.

___________

You screamed, thrashing about on the floor as you gripped your head between your hands.

Get out. Get out. Get out.

You pulled at your hair, slapped your skull like that would be what it took for the female to relinquish her hold on your mind.

She was buried inside like a parasite - a virus slowly taking over the cellular machinery, copying it all down as she rifled through your memories as easily as a picture book.

You shrank away from her as she lingered on one memory in particular.

It was your fortieth birthday, although you didn’t look any older than eight. Helion sat on the floor, long legs extending beyond the cramped space between the fireplace and the couch. It was a small apartment you shared with your mother with its pale green walls and yellow daisy curtains.

He filled every inch of it with light. His smile was so dazzling you thought he must have been one of the fairytale knights you’d spent every night obsessing over. He certainly played the part, gifting you a wooden pegasus with wings that hovered a foot above the ground when you asked it to.

“You can’t keep doing this, Helion.” You’d stayed hidden at the top of the stairs, your pegasus nuzzling into your side and then going still.

“She’s my daughter, Leda. What am I meant to do?”

“You’re meant to leave us alone.”

“Leda-”

“She’s growing too slowly. You saw her today, she should be fully grown by now.”

“...I know.”

“If anyone finds out who she is… the power she possesses. Mother help us…”

“I know. I’m-I’m sorry, Leda.”

“You can’t keep doing this.”

That was the last childhood memory you’d had of him, and when the pegasus’s magic had worn off, leaving him stiff and immoble, the novelty of having a knight for a father had worn off too.

You were crying now, tears streaming down your ash-stained cheeks as the female above you clicked her forked tongue. Her eyes were two chips of moonstone split by wide, rectangular pupils.

“A High Lord’s bastard.” She sang with pleasure. “How fun.” She leaned down and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking it up so forcefully you had to bite your tongue to keep from screaming. “No. No.” She clicked her tongue in disappointment, “Don’t stop. I want to hear you scream. Scream.”

With a roar of anger you latched onto her arm, immediately feeling a flood of memories and emotion pour into your mind.

Sick, twisted satisfaction. Pleasure. Meryl’s decapitated body hastily hidden behind a pillar. When she’d gone down into the lower levels of The Alcove, searching for the diary, she hadn’t expected to see him there. Hadn’t expected him to give her a hard time. Hadn’t expected him to fight back.

The three other fae, slaughtered in haste. Koschei would not be pleased. He would not let her join him on the lake. But she had the book. She had the book.

The female hissed, the disorienting motion of being in your mind while you were in hers causing panic. She’d been trained to keep others out of her mind. She’d endured far more training than you had. So why couldn’t she kick you out?

More memories. More emotions. Rising fear. You soothed it using the training she’d received. She wasn’t the virus. You were. You felt all her memories. The terrible aftermath of war on the continent. The feeling of being burned alive.

The female was trying to break away from you now, but you wouldn’t let her, not even as the smoke grew so thick it clogged your lungs. You felt her memories as if they were your own, and so long as she was in your mind, she was forced to experience it all as well.

His power is beneath the lake. Trapped. Buried. He can’t leave his soul behind. Can’t diminish himself any further. He can’t leave the lake.

Koschei.

The lake. What’s buried beneath the lake?

Andrian. ANDRIAN!!!

Get the key. Get the key. Get the key.

The scream of her brother’s voice as Koschei splits his head in two.

When your eyes burst open they’re so bright the female turns her face away, sobbing. Your blood soaked hand searches the floor for the knife you dropped, the knife you can see is less than a foot away. But you’re not looking at it. She is.

She registers what you plan to do. Every thought of hers reflected in your mind like a ghostly afterimage. But it’s too late.

You grip the knife in your hand.

Slam it through her eye and out the back of her skull.

It’s a strange feeling to be in someone’s mind when they die. To feel like it’s your body slowly fading from existence with one final breath.

The female’s body slumps motionless over yours, and her final memories of her brother play out one last time.

…Then it’s just silence and the crackling of the ever approaching flames.

When Azriel reaches The Alcove, the windows have all burst, angry tongues of fire licking the sky and gasping for breath.

“Y/N!” Azriel roars, shooting off towards the door so hard the cobblestones crack beneath his feet. “Y/N!”

White lights begin to splinter up the stone walls, filling invisible cracks that begin to take the shape of ancient runes. Swirls, symbols, repeating lines trace their way over the windows, sealing them shut as the flames start to hiss in protest, eating up the oxygen faster than they can draw breath.

The door has been blown apart, the inside of The Alcove nothing more than a hurricane of ash and smoke. But when Azriel reaches them, he slams into an impenetrable wall of magic.

“NO!” He crashes against the barrier. Light scatters outward, but holds against the shadows that burst forth from Azriel’s body. Power explodes from his siphons, but still the magic holds.

“Y/N! Y/N!” He flies up to the windows and tries again to no avail.

The bond is still there, burning away in his chest with a passion.

He will not lose you. Not like this. Not today.

He touches back down on the ground, legs braced on the street as blue light begins to wrap around his chest and arms. His shadows mix in with them like ink in a tumultuous sea.

He’s about to let his power flood out when he sees it - two dim pinpricks of light that pass through the barrier as easily as sparrows diving through the air.

You’re nothing more than a gray shadow, your knees and hands coated in a mixture of ash and blood, as you emerge from the roaring flames. Your eyes gleam a pale yellow, seeing and unseeing at the same time. You make it to the front steps and when you stumble, Azriel is there to catch you, one arm looping around your waist and you’re immediately thrust into another memory.

It’s dark and cold in the cellar. So dark that even after two days the most Azriel can do to prove he still exists is to slap his legs, then his arms, then his face. Then he knows he’s still alive. It’s the pain that helps him remember.

“Y/n. Y/n. I need you to look at me.” Your eyes are unfocused, still glowing as Azriel helps you walk forward, one hand clasping yours close to his chest. “Y/n. Y/n. Please. Darling, please.”

His mother sings to him, a gentle, sweet melody that’s filled with more sorrow than words. His hands are heavy with gauze and ointment, the lingering pain magnifying and shooting through his small body whenever he moves them to touch his mother’s face or to wrap his arms around her neck.

But this is the only hour he’ll get with her this week. So he ignores the pain. He savors only the feeling of his mother’s arms around his weak back and the song she sings, hanging onto every word and committing them to memory.

You’re vaguely aware of Helion’s deep voice shouting your name. When he touches you, you can feel his relief as acutely as the rumble of thunder before rain. The emotion rolls over you, calming your heart.

For a brief moment you’re still the little girl he placed on top of the pegasus on your fortieth birthday. For a brief moment your mother is still alive, suppressing the smile on her lips as she watches the creature wobble to life, shake its wings, and begin to fly.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

We're getting into the action/plot now folks! Hold on tight because I have IDEAS! It's going to take time for me to explain it all in the story, but I promise you I have a plan

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#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x mate reader #the inner circle #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #the day court

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wearepaladin · 3 months

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Just for fun I’m going to write an outline for an Elden Ring story I’ll never have the time or discipline to write in full, but would be fun to think about. Basically, if Elden Ring were a novel and less bound by the classic Soulsborne mechanic of everyone out to kill you all the time and you could theoretically talk to a bit more folk before they’re running at you with fire and cleavers.

So, more under the cut for those of you inclined for a bit of speculative reading.

So I think the most important thing to get out of the way is the nature of the protagonist, who we have playing the Tarnished of No Renown in this story, because while video games are a fun means of crafting your personalized to fight your way to victory in The Lands Between, for a novel a character who has a presence in the pre established narrative would be ideal. To that end, I have speculated the ToNR’s background based on what can be universally deduced about them based on where they were buried and rose from the Dead when Grace brought them back to life.

So, to that end, I critically went over the game starting zone, The Chapel of Anticipation. It was here where we are interred, along with the ashes of two stormhawks, a recently dead finger maiden, and a Grafted Scion waiting to kill us, with the chapel built on a sea stack with a bridge presumably leading to Stormveil Castle. Stormveil, as a reminder, was originally the fortress of a Storm King, a mysterious figure whose defeat by Godfrey/Hoarah Loux in single combat is considered among the First Elden Lord’s greatest achievements. So, for the sake of the story, based on this little bit of information, I am deciding that the contender for Elden Lord will be played by a Storm King resurrected by the Guidance of Grace, awakened in their tomb to find the Finger Maiden who knew that a lost king was interred here, and where a distant Scion of Godfrey, the Grafted Scion, knew where an old enemy may one day rise.

Thus, a newly risen Storm King would have been active before the existence of the Tarnished as they are now, and indeed, ignorant of much of the current history of the Lands Between and the Shattering of the Elden Ring and ensuing wars. Indeed, depending on the timeline, they would even see Marika as the empress of an invading theocracy and not the long established god queen of the setting. It allows for a protagonist who can fulfill the role of audience surrogate by needing to get caught up on everything, but gives them a more personal motivation than simple power: they are empowered by the force that had slain them and live to see the long wrought consequences of their defeat.

Drawing inspiration from the others titled Storm King in Fromsoftware games, and the nature of Stormveil as the largest and most heavily fortified castle in the game, (arguably anyway) I’m imagining the Storm culture as martial but somewhat isolationist since we don’t see much of their influence beyond what scant remains of their legacy can be found in the castle. The Storm King thus did not combat the Golden Order until Godfrey bested them personally.

The protagonist would then have very personal reasons for removing Godrick from Stormveil castle, not to take his great rune but their ancient home. But in the process of doing so, they meet Melina and the Roundtable Hold, opening doors to a greater understanding of what’s been going on and granting motivation to not just retake Stormveil, but to adress the broken state of the world.

The story the largely goes on as it does in the game: most of the major powers that still remain would be even less inclined to parley with the Storm King than they would some Tarnished with no Renown, but there are some key differences. Limgrave’s population would have a monarch of ancient stock to gather those Sane enough to reside in the safely of Stormveil. The world doesn’t remain static and we see the side of lordship as more than being a godkilling machine, but someone who can lead and have people follow.

Godrick, Radahn, and Rykard are still slain as the three would never be able to be talked down, as they are either determined pretender, ill beyond care, or intending to devour the world respectively. Renalla is never fought as her situation never required a violent resolution. Morgott’s situation becomes much more complex, as while still quite hostile, the growing political influence the Storm King would amass in Limgrave, Liurnia and even remnants of the Redmane army swearing allegiance after the death and liberation of General Radahn, would force a more politically intriguing conflict.

I think that the Storm King would learn that the Erdtree is sealed by thorns by either “diplomacy”’(shouting matches) with Morgott or an intrigue plot involving Black Knives at war with eachother, and lead to the events of the DLC as the SK decides they are unwilling to risk freeing Frenzied Flame or having Melina sacrificed, whatever her willingness. He instead follows a third option, and goes the Lands of Shadow, seeking not Miquella, but Messmer. This would be the beginning of the second book in a theoretical trilogy, as the events in SotE would require the space Rand still culminate with the failed apotheosis of Miquella.

However, as the SK would not arrive in the Lands of Shadow alone, but with political authority tying him to Liurnia and other Golden Order factions, Messmer’s army, having awaited eons for word from home, is receptive enough to allow the SK to engage diplomatically with Rellana and eventually Messmer. Messmer learns of the current status of the Lands Between, meets his sister Melina for the first time, and decides to call off the Crusade after the failed Apotheosis of Miquella. Using his abyssal flame, he then takes his sister’s place at the Mountaintop of Giants, bringing Flame of Mesmer to the tree his mother built her empire from.

While this is happening, the Stormking goes through their own personal journey of discovery as with both the actions committed by the Golden Order and the Hornsent in turn, they find that themself asking the hard question of whether their kingdom’s isolationist policies contributed to the pogroms and cycles of violence by inactivity: could so much harm have been avoided if they or their ancestors been less hostile to the greater lands of the world?

The story then concludes as the ancient powers that have long manipulated behind the scenes interject from various angles as Metyr, the Ancient Dragons, The Frenzied Flame and the Rot all instigate their own attempts regain control of the lands between, with various part of the assembled cast facing their respective foes, Ranni and her Allies facing Metyr and the Fingers, Millicent and remnants Miquella’s followers taking control of their destiny at the Haligtree by facing the Goddess of Rot, Melina and Morgott combining their power against the corrosive influence of Shabriri and the Chaos Flame.

All the while Storm King faces first the Dragons at Farum Azula, revealing ancient ties between the dragons and the Stormking that culminate in a duel between them and Placidusax, and then a rematch between Godfrey and The Storm King, culminating in the final battle against the powers hidden in The Erdtree itself

Then, I think, a variant on the Age of Stars ending would occur. Altered to include influence from the Duskborn and Order endings.

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felassan · 1 month

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Dragon Age: The Veilguard | High-Level Combat Parts 1-4 writeup

This post also contains transcriptions of the text that was in the video.

This was a four-part video series which has also been edited into a single standalone video for convenience. The video features an elven Warrior Rook from the Grey Warden background and who has taken the Champion spec.

Story/plot, flavor stuff, and other cool stuff

The footage in the new gameplay video was edited to avoid major spoilers, but there is still new story information in there.

Weisshaupt Fortress, the headquarters of the Grey Warden order located in the Anderfels, is under attack and under siege from the Blighted elven god Ghilan'nain, her Archdemon, and darkspawn. The darkspawn are following Ghilan'nain's orders. Rook and the Veilguard must stop her. They set off to find their allies in Weisshaupt and soon meet resistance from the darkspawn. Lots of sacs of Blight corruption are growing on the buildings that make up the fortress. Blight sacs (or something that looks like them. the lil parachute things) fall on the fortress too like missiles. Ghil's face watches the siege from the stormy sky.

This quest is called "The Siege of Weisshaupt". The fact that Weisshaupt would come under attack from the weird darkspawn and a dragon in DA:TV actually first emerged as a detail during a leak a few years ago. Stages and objectives in this questline include "Get to the War Room (Move along the wall)", "Find the dragon trap (Move along the wall)", "Find the dragon trap (Defeat the darkspawn)" and "Get to the Library (Defeat the darkspawn)". I'd guess that said dragon trap in this instance is for Ghil's Archdemon, though it makes sense why the Wardens would even have such a thing as a dragon trap seeing as the Archdemons, when they rise, are in dragon form. Could it be anything like the setup that had confined Ataashi in Trespasser? Also, lore says that Weisshaupt is home to an extensive library.

As this is high-level combat gameplay, the implication could potentially be that this storybeat occurs during the mid-to-late game?

It seems that at times certain companions are required to be taken along on certain quests (iirc this was previously reported in an article somewhere too). For example, Davrin is required during The Siege of Weisshaupt, as it is a Grey Warden quest and he is the Grey Warden companion.

I think Warden Rook's surname is Thorne (Grey Warden symbol in the image). The Rook in the video has the first name "Esha".

Solas' Lyrium dagger isn't only a story thing/magic maguffin artifact that can tear the Veil. When Rook gets it, it appears to have a function/use in gameplay as well. Rook can attach 3 runes to it in different slots. These runes have various functions and effects e.g. Scorch.

The companions are described like this:

Bellara - "Veil Jumper"

Davrin - "Grey Warden"

Emmrich - "Mourn Watcher"

Harding - "Inquisition Agent" (Agent of the remnants?)

Lucanis - "Antivan Crow"

Neve - "Shadow Dragon"

Taash - "Lord of Fortune"

We see additional descriptions for some of them:

Davrin - "Sword-and-board monster hunter commands a griffon"

Lucanis - "Swift and precise assassin with a demonic aura"

Emmrich - "Nevarran professor of death summons spirits"

Harding - "Potion-slinging scout's arrows shock and shred"

(I love these lil descriptions btw, the way they're written is like poetry)

Along with his demonic aura, Lucanis (called "The Demon" per TN) has an ability called Abominate. Implications.. intriguing :D

Lucanis' abilities tend towards crowd control. Davrin can call Assan to attack in battle. He flies down like a meteor or comet and it's so cool. :)

The video includes a bit of flavor text for Grey Wardens from an ability description and a specialization description:

Ultimate Ability [of Grey Warden Rook, presumably] – Warden’s Fire Unleash a barrage of strikes with the burning strength that resides within every Grey Warden. [this does fire damage] Specialization – Champion The pinnacle of Grey Warden combat prowess. The Champion is a born leader who rallies their allies, turns their fervor into flame, and wields a shield as a deadly weapon.

(^ The fire damage and fire motif contained in the above makes sense as darkspawn are vulnerable to elemental fire damage. also, I think when Rook uses Warden's Fire, they blow a horn 'Gondor calls for aid' style, which is super cool.)

The video includes new lore in the form of item descriptions for various gear pieces. Each item appears to be associated with one of the factions, as it has that faction's sigil on its info box.

These guys are darkspawn ghouls. One type is called a Greater Ghoul. (Does that imply the existence of "Lesser Ghouls" or just "Ghouls"?) These are melee mobs. Another darkspawn enemy type is Greater Hurlock Spiker. Those are ranged mobs that throw the spikes from their backs. There are also regular Greater Hurlocks (I think those are these guys) and Greater Hurlock Blighters. The Blighters seem to have sacs of red Blight corruption on their backs, and you can see them throwing globs of this around, thereby spreading the Blight like their name suggests. it seems like these globs explode after impact like grenades or bombs. of course, all darkspawn spread Blight, but that's like an evolution of spreading.

The video features new music.

Enemies can be Sparta-kicked off ledges. Throw your shield like Captain America! (or at least its energy-shadow thing) This Rook has an ability called Titan Stomp.

Lucanis sometimes leaps around in a dramatic burst of crow feathers, kinda flying (it feels like) down from above like a bird of prey.

Thoughts, speculation

Gameplay looks super cool and fun oh shit!

If the plotbeats described above (Ghil, Archdemon, Weisshaupt siege etc) aren't considered by BioWare to be "major spoilers", it makes me wonder about the plotbeats and twists they aren't revealing that would be. yknow?

If Ghilan'nain has an Archdemon, might Elgar'nan also? We've seen different concept art pieces and scenes with two dragons in them, and we have long speculated about a 'Double Blight' of some kind. Two Elven Gods have risen; handily, prior to DA:TV beginning, two Old Gods/Archdemons remained (Razikale and Lusacan). In DA:TV teaser murals and art pieces, the concentric circles motif still had the two 'lit' hemispheres around the outside. If they both have one, which Old God is paired with which Evanuris? BUT. Saying that. alternate theory. how do we even know that her Archdemon is a real Archdemon? Corypheus in DA:I used red lyrium to transform a High dragon into an imitation of an archdemon, his red lyrium dragon. Thedosians initially presumed that this was a real Archdemon. if Cory can do it, why not Ghil and Elgar'nan? Ghil at least has clearly been messing with red lyrium given the red lyrium darkspawn.

I hope we get to visit Weisshaupt at some point before the siege takes place, I'd like to see it as it was and explore it a bit before that happens. 🥺 Weisshaupt in the game looks so like previous concept arts we saw of it (one, two), it's so cool to see all the art pieces come to game-life as assets in-game. also I love all the lil griffon assets around Weisshaupt, like the sleepy statue. and could this scene be the Weisshaupt War Room?

On Ghil's face in the storm: on DA Day 2023 BioWare said:

"To the far west, three Grey Wardens patrol the Anderfels. Tremors have been causing disturbances of late. Their cause is unknown. Upon the distant horizon, a storm of ominous intent brews and darkens the skies."

they were being literal ig about the storm of ominous intent darkening the skies! and then I guess the storm in this concept art of Weisshaupt is the Ghilstorm.

Why would Ghil attack Weisshaupt with darkspawn? I'm sure there's more to it underneath the surface, but from what we know so far, the elven gods are "corrupt"/"Blighted" and are "hellbent on Blighting the world". and if you want to spread a Blight, it makes sense that you would target.. the HQ of the world's main and only defense against the Blight. it's also not a surprise that she is doing so (I don't mean this in a disparaging way. I just mean 'stories put out clues and foreshadowing for the next plotbeats, and if you were following the clues as intended' etc) - we knew that the Anderfels had been experiencing unknown tremors lately and that a storm of ominous intent was brewing there. also, the new darkspawn are mutated and in TN the Wardens discovered in Hormak that Ghil had/has twelve (now eleven) secret underground monster pools in the Deep Roads that mutate darkspawn. lyrium was also involved in that instance, albeit yellow-green.

Ghil's attack on Weisshaupt also explains why in the Thedas Calls teaser trailer, it sounded like Weisshaupt was under attack and under imminent threat. (Ctrl+F "Weisshaupt" in this post for more on that). For example, the line "Grey Wardens don’t hide in our castle. I won’t ask good soldiers to turn tail and run." - this sounds like a dialogue line spoken by a senior Warden specifically during the Seige of Weisshaupt.

It also explains why in this Thedas Calls shot of Weisshaupt, Weisshaupt looks afflicted by red lyrium, there's a dark ominous storm vibe, and things look ruined/threatened. and it explains screenshots and scenes like this and why in the character reveal trailer Davrin was fighting red lyrium darkspawn in a Blighted dark area with griffon assets. (read the "Davrin" section here for more)

"They set off to find their allies in Weisshaupt and soon meet resistance from the darkspawn" - could this be Evka and Antoine? :)

I don't think we see any or many Wardens around in the sections of this quest that we see in this video. I definitely saw at least one dead one. what has befallen them? I hope some of them are surviving somewhere inside the fortress ;-; and where is the First Warden in all this? also, this must be awful for Davrin to see :< A Grey Warden witnessing the attack of your order's heart.

Fighting a darkspawn siege on the walls and roof of a famous fortress is giving me Battle of Denerim, Fort Drakon-DA:O-style vibes and memories. it's perfect :)

With Lucanis' demonic aura and Abominate ability, it's probably time to revisit the idea that there's something inchresting/spirit-demonny going on there. I'm curious to see the take on it this time around and how it differs to e.g. Wynne, Anders.

I love the way hair and capes flip around and move in battle!

^ Ghil's Archdemon, or "Archdemon"? At this point it also looks like.. sacs of Blighted corruption (or something) are falling from the sky down onto Weisshaupt/being launched at Weisshaupt by the darkspawn/Ghil as part of the seige!! jesus!!

Some random other posts of things like stuff I noticed: Davrin and Lucanis height comparison (who knows if it's to scale on that screen though), Summon Baby Button, Davrin and Lucanis icons, Lucanis' smirk, Davrin picture compilation, Emmrich and Harding on the party screen, darkspawn advance, useable trebuchet/dead Warden/giant ominous tube, aeries?/griffon lamp/+2 Heartwood

Item description lore

Each item appears to be associated with a faction, as it has that faction's sigil on its info box. For example, the Golden Casque helm is a Lord of Fortune item.

GEAR WIELDED BY ROOK "Golden Casque – rare heavy helm – [Lords of Fortune] Tall and plumed, this fine helmet is the color of gold – but much harder to dent. The Iron Cast – rare heavy armor – [Mourn Watch] This armor’s vividly sculpted musculature is a testament to Nevarra’s unrivalled knowledge of anatomy. Necropolis Defender – rare targe [a targe is a type of shield historically used by Scottish Highlanders] – [Mourn Watch] The elite guards who stand watch at the gates of the Grand Necropolis use these shields to guard against both the living and the dead. Spellbound Longsword – rare longsword – [Shadow Dragons] This enchanted longsword is bound with burning magic. Andraste’s Will – unique ring – [Shadow Dragons] Andraste was tied to a stake and burned while her earthly husband turned his armies aside and did nothing, for his heart had been devoured. Amaranthine Loop – uncommon ring – [Antivan Crows] Favored by Crows, the uniform rows of stones add balance and precision to every blow. Also some elegance. Heart of Andraste – uncommon amulet – [Lords of Fortune] A charm given to newly anointed Fathers of the Imperial Chantry, the cracked stone serves as a reminder of Andraste’s mortal heart." Rook was also wielding a big hammer and wearing a belt, the icon did not pass over their infoboxes during the video. GEAR WIELDED BY DAVRIN "Blight Killer – rare longsword – [Grey Wardens] An intimidating, one-of-a-kind sword cut from solid obsidian. It is perfectly balanced. Reforged Bulwark – uncommon heater (shield) – [Grey Wardens] Reclaimed from the ruins of an old Warden stronghold, this shield honors the sacrifices of Wardens past while defending their future." Davrin was also wielding his iconic/default armor and what looked like a dagger or shortsword. The icon did not pass over their infoboxes during the video.

Part 1

Text notes in this part:

"Combat Part 1: Prepare For Battle This is an introduction to high-level combat. Footage has been edited for brevity and to avoid major spoilers. Weisshaupt Fortress is under attack from Ghilan’nain and her Archdemon. Rook and the Veilguard must stop her. Let’s get your warrior ready for battle. Abilities & Runes - Assign abilities and an ultimate attack before jumping into battle. - Equip runes to enhance your power set and access unique abilities when activated. - Choose runes that boost a Warrior’s damage and help with crowd control. Skill Tree - Each combat class has an array of specializations to choose from. - Your Rook has chosen the Champion branch, which favors strong defensive skills. - Utilizing passive abilities like Heavy Armor Mastery will help boost defense if you are equipped with all heavy armor. - You’re going to be battling darkspawn, who are vulnerable to fire. Fiery Resolve will grant us “Flaming Weapons” for a duration when we parry an enemy attack. - We’ll be doing a deep dive on progression systems in the future. Inventory - For this build, you’ll want a full set of heavy armor to activate our Heavy Armor Mastery passive. - Rook is primarily using a Sword & Shield since it allows you to be more defensive. - If you prefer a more aggressive playstyle, two-handed weapons deal more damage, but have fewer defensive options. - The Spellbound Longsword deals high Stagger and can trigger powerful takedowns. - We’ll cover Stagger in Part of this series. - Rook has a fire-based, darkspawn-killer build. - This ring grants a bonus to the max number of burning stacks, which results in more damage over time. - This is just one type of build. Other examples include customizing to emphasize your Shield Toss or Takedowns. - Personalize yours to fit your preferred playstyle. - Selected companions can aid Rook by equipping complementary gear and passives. - This is a Grey Warden mission, so you should bring Davrin into battle with you. [Character selection screen] - In addition to Davrin, you decide to take Lucanis into battle based on his crowd control abilities."

This is what the character screen looks like. There are 'pages' for Map, Character, Companions, Skills and Library. (Library is for the codexes basically).

Gear-wise Rook can equip two different weapons (in this case they have a sword+shield and also a hammer in the 2h slot), helmet, an armor, and what looks like 1 belt/accessory, 1 necklace/accessory and 2 rings. Helmet has a 'hide helmet' toggle. Additionally, the Lyrium dagger has slots for 3 runes. There are also slots at the bottom for 3 abilities and 1 Ultimate Attack (I think). I think the Ultimate ability is based on Rook's background.

There looks like there's 3 different types of things we gather, plus another submenu if you press triangle to see the resources (heartwood etc). The one on the right looks like gold/coin. I wonder what the other two are?

This is what the equivalent pane for Davrin looks like in the Companions menu. Companions have less customizable gear slots than Rook.

This looks like the relationship meter. In this save, Davrin seems to be at relationship level 4 with Rook, a stage which is called "Comrade in Arms".

This is what the 'choose your team'/'gather your party' screen looks like. The companions' cards are these art pieces. At this point in this save, Neve is the only one with the Veilguard sigil above her card. Michael Gamble tweeted that this means "she is a hero of the Veilguard." [source] Maybe this means that her 'loyalty mission', or this game's equivalent thereof, has been completed so that Neve has been able to fully commit to the Veilguard?

Part 2

Text notes in this part:

“Combat Part 2: The Basics Now that Rook, Davrin & Lucanis have the right gear and skills, the team sets off to find their allies. Soon, they are met with resistance by the darkspawn, blighted creatures following Ghilan’nain’s orders. Assess The Battlefield - First, learn the enemy types to strategically exploit their weaknesses. Darkspawn are vulnerable to fire. - You will also see that they are resistant to Necrosis. - Enemies have a multitude of damage vulnerabilities and resistances. - Abilities which exploit weaknesses have a green outline. - Rook encounters a swarm of darkspawn ghouls who favor overwhelming melee. - The ghouls are joined by Hurlock spikers, ranged combatants who are also vulnerable to fire. - Time a Shield Block to parry an incoming attack, which provides an opportunity for a high-damage counterattack. - With this successful parry, the Fiery Resolve passive skill activates Flaming Weapons. Melee attacks will now do fire damage instead of physical. - Use the Kick ability to deal massive damage and knock enemies off ledges. - Shield Throw is an effective ranged attack that can destroy obstacles and quickly close the gap between you and an enemy. - Health pots are available throughout the world. Grab them to prepare for what’s ahead. - Use the Ability Wheel to pause the action, cast abilities, and direct your companions. - Some enemies have tougher additional protection that needs to be removed. A yellow bar indicates Armor Barrier. - Armor is resistant to most attacks. Heavy attacks are the most effective against it. - Here, the darkspawn horde begins to overwhelm. - You can cast Spectral Bulwark, which damages enemies who land melee hits. - This allows you to fearlessly get into the thick of battle. - Enemies have a lavender stagger bar that builds when you land hits. - While an enemy is Staggered, they take bonus damage, and you can deliver a powerful takedown."

Part 3

Text notes in this part:

“Combat Part 3: Buffs, Debuffs, & Crowd Control You’ve mastered your core abilities. Now it’s time to face down a variety of enemies, all at once. Spacing Strategy - This Rook is a Warrior, specializing in the Champion branch, which favors a defensive style of fighting. - Warriors are front-line fighters capable of devastating, up-close attacks. - Rook and their companions can also deploy different tools, such as area-of-effect attacks to uniquely manage various enemies. Buffs & Debuffs - Additionally, activate companion buffs and debuffs to apply status effects. - One example of a buff is Lucanis’ Adrenaline Rush ability which enhances Rook’s damage stats. - Davrin has Heroic Strike, which applies the overwhelmed debuff. This causes the target to take additional Stagger. Crowd Control - This build activates the Shield Volley Passive, which ricochets your shield 3 times if you hit it with a heavy attack. - Rook is getting attacked on all sides, so you command Lucanis to use Abominate to knock enemies down. Fighting At A Distance - Use abilities, like Davrin’s Death From Above, to deal damage from afar. - Or use your Grappling Spear to pull them close.”

Part 4

Text notes in this part:

“Combat Part 4: Primers, Detonators, & Ultimates As your fight progresses, use primers, detonators, and ultimates with strategic timing to turn the tide of battle. Primers & Detonators - Rook can create incredibly damaging combo detonations with the help of their companions. - Assess the situation, and determine which primers and detonators work best against each enemy type. - Command Davrin to Taunt to gather nearby enemies. - Activate the Crystallize rune to freeze the gathered group in place. - Lucanis can use Eviscerate to detonate the combo and strike the whole group. Ultimate Attacks - As the battle progresses, Rook can unleash a destructive ultimate attack. - Now that you’ve mastered these combat strategies and tactics, let’s see them all in action."

Abilities, passives etc

For these I focused mostly on the move’s name + its description. In some cases there's sort of two as there's the one from the Ability Wheel and the one from the Skill Tree.

ROOK Driving Kick – Focus all your strength and determination into one mighty kick. / Deals a very high amount of Stagger. Grappling Spear – Harpoon your targets with a strong throw and drag them in for a closer encounter. / Pulls your target towards you. Press [button] or [button] to perform a follow-up attack Spectral Bulwark – Hone your guard and protect yourself from enemies foolish enough to attack. Enemies who hit you with a melee attack take damage and very high […]. / While active, enemies who hit you with a melee attack take damage and very high Stagger. [Ultimate] Warden’s Fire – Unleash a barrage of strikes with the burning strength that resides within every Grey Warden. Applies Burning to enemies [Specialization] Champion – The pinnacle of Grey Warden combat prowess. The Champion is a born leader who rallies their allies, turns their fervor into flame, and wields a shield as a deadly weapon. [Greater Passive] Heavy Armor Mastery - +Defense while wearing a heavy helm and armor. You are now less likely to be disrupted when getting hit. [Greater Passive] Fiery Resolve – Gain Flaming Weapons on Perfect Defense. Flaming Weapons lasts 50% longer. Titan Stomp – Deals very high Stagger to nearby enemies. LUCANIS Adrenaline Rush – Grants enhanced damage Abominate – Deals high Barrier damage and applies Knocked down to enemies in the area Eviscerate – At half health of less, this deals bonus damage, increasing in effectiveness the closer the target is to death DAVRIN Death From Above – Deals high Stagger [summons Assan to attack] Heroic Strike – Deals high Stagger Battle Cry – Applies Taunted to enemies in the area

There were also names and info popups of different runes, e.g. Mend.

[source]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #solas #caledonia's been everything #gpoy #dragon age: tevinter nights #edit: skills/passives etc blurbs added :)

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evergreenalice · 2 years

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I'll never get over the fucking tunnel of love scene, it's just the best fucking scene I love it so much

first of all, it follows the objectively amazing scene between Homura and Sayaka

the song "Dream World" begins to play as the Clara Dolls chant "fort, da, fort, da" in the background, the meaning of this I'm too lazy to explain, and if you don't know why the words "fort" and "da" are important to Rebellion, just look it up, there are better explanations than I can give. What's important is that these words relate to Homura and Madoka, the Clara Dolls are an extension of Homura, and thus Homura is presumably thinking about Madoka

as we see Sayaka's cape flying away from their confrontation, Homura begins a monologue

we see Clara Dolls dancing on a pink spool, representative of Madoka (if you don't know why, once again, I request that you look up "fort da Madoka") so once more an indication of where Homura's thoughts currently are

we see two swans, generally a symbol of love (fun fact, because of this one scene the moment I see swans I instantly think of Madoka Magica)

we see Homura standing on the front of of the boat, one of her familiars standing in the boat, not doing anything notable, I bring this up to come back to it later, also it's just a good shot

the world shifts as Homura moves through it, remember, this is essentially her dream, the things that appear are from Homura's mind

we see a paper Kyoko standing on an arch asking us if we're enjoying the movie (thank you for asking Kyoko :) Indeed I am)

a tunnel rises from the ocean

Kyoko says this, displaying essentially the ideal life for Kyoko, her relationship with Mami is never soured, and they're still friends, and they're just doing good stuff, none of the darkness that exists in reality

we see Homura's annoyed, perhaps somewhat conflicted even, face

we enter the tunnel, and it's clearly meant to be a tunnel of love, remember, the things in this world are created from her thoughts, there is a reason for a tunnel of love being here and it has to do with Homura's thoughts, EVERYTHING in this tunnel is from Homura's mind, it existing, everything in it, and where it leads, are from HER thoughts, keep that fact in mind

Mami just outright states that everything is ideal

beautiful shot, nothing else to say

Sayaka outright asks if this is so bad. She has a very goofy face because Homura is annoyed with her, I love this detail "YOU'RE TOO LATE SAYAKA I'VE ALREADY DEPICTED YOU AS THE SOYJACK!"

Homura accidentally criticizing herself, however, once again, EVERYTHING HERE IS HOMURA, this is an argument with herself, she's not disagreeing with paper Sayaka, paper Mami, and paper Kyoko, because they don't exist, they're HER, everything they say are HER thoughts, SHE thinks that this is the ideal world, deep down she wants to stay here, and she hates herself for it, viewing it as weakness.

we cut to Homura kneeling beneath goddess Madoka, Homura views Madoka as a goddess, not just in a descriptive sense, but a prescriptive one. In her eyes Madoka is a perfect being deserving of reverence, her love for Madoka is yes, romantic, but also has undeniably religious elements to it

Homura reaching up towards the statue of goddess Madoka as she talks about her sacrifice, it's just, VERY religious, she's over here like "Madoka died for your despair, accept her into your heart as your lord and savior" and it's like, Homura, this is a really unhealthy way to view your crush

this flashes on screen "who is dreaming?" the reason these runes pop on screen at this point is because it's important to this scene specifically, Homura is essentially denouncing whoever is guilty of being, for lack of a better word, a sinner, so these runes prompt the question of who the "sinner" is, and of course, it is Homura

we cut to a boat on fire

we see little paper cutouts of people drowning, presumably the people who should be being saved right now but aren't

Homura caresses Madoka's legs very heterosexually, I will come back to this later

the Clara Dolls throw tomatoes at the statue and Homura while saying "god is dead" in German, this most obviously signifies the blasphemy of the sinner who created this world (Homura) it's also a Nietzsche quote (Nietzsche and Rebellion is a whole nother conversation though)

it's also worth pointing out that the Clara Dolls's antagonism towards Homura is likely symbolic of bullying, which considering the way Moemura acts, is almost definitely something she went through

remember that everything here is from Homura's mind, that tunnel of love didn't even exist a moment ago, it was created by Homura's mind, that includes where it led, Homura's mind created a tunnel of love while thinking about Madoka that led her to Madoka

Madoka jumps down and lands on Homura, she doesn't emote much, but we know for a fact that this caused A LOT of emotions in her. Remember that familiar I pointed out that wasn't doing much? Well once again, everything in here is part of Homura, representing a part of her mind

as Madoka sits up, we see the familiar excitedly dancing with sparklers, because well, gay

as I said I wanted to come back to the statue's legs later, this is why. Where Homura touched it is marked in inky black. Her devotion to Madoka, her love for her, represented by the caressing of her legs, has only dirtied the statue. She views her love as a dirtying force. And for a lesbian that canonically went to Catholic school, views herself as a demon, and her crush as a pure perfect goddess, that certainly has implications, internalized homophobia is only one possible reading of this scene, but it's the one I choose to go with.

that's the end, I hope you enjoyed!

#Madoka Magica #PMMM #puella magi madoka magica #madoka magica rebellion #madohomu #homumado #madoka kaname #Homura Akemi #analysis

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thedarkheretic156 · 4 months

Text

IX Eternal Flame IX

Parts: ❧ I II III IV V VI VII VIII❧

❧ Warning!: Gore, violence, mentions of blood, loss, grief, mourning, ANGST.

❧ As the blood moon rises for the feast of manana, It's time Wei faces the greatest gamble of her life." ❧

- -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾The feast- part I. -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ -

Sesshomaru stared into the sky, the ghoulish moon would climb up over the horizon in a few hours. urgh.

He could practically taste the strange magic in the air. It's ominous pull was making all kinds of ayakashi stir in their hiding. By nightfall, this place would be flooded with them.

How inconvenient.

It was only appropriate that he got rid of them, swiftly. That was one way of getting his mind of this ebbing anxiety. Something about this moon deeply unsettled him.

He gritted his teeth, until they don't cross over the village, everything will be fine. And he himself will be here when the dreadful moon is on their heads.

maybe my death will teach you that.

Something bitter curled in his mouth, why was he remembering her rambling all of a sudden?

And why was he so bothered by it?

Despite his anger, his mind recounted the memories of last night. He hated how she had said that, over the thick haze of the hot springs, he had expected her to be angry, fire flashing in her eyes. But she had sounded so... defeated. Like she was reciting something inevitable.

His shoulders slumped, every day the mountain girl kept getting stranger and stranger. Death seemed to follow her like a plague, not a moment of peace since she had joined them. Why couldn't she just... sit quietly. Like Rin.

Why did she have to be always on the run, always itching to take action, always so eager to push the limits of her own mortality-

He pressed his temple, how did a human like that rile him up so easily? He tried to funnel his thoughts, killing ayakashi yes.

Jaken jogged up behind him, the heads on his staff clattering their teeth. "I put down the runes as you asked my lord!" He said, "No yokai can cross over the boundary I set around them."

Good.

"You drew it around the entire village as I asked you?"

"Just as you asked my lord" He said bowing deeply, and to his surprise, sniffled, "Who would have thought lord Sesshomaru would grow to care so deeply abou-"

Sesshomaru slammed the hilt of bakusaiga on his head, making him stumble forward mid-sentence.

nonsense.

"Keep up Jaken." he sneered out, kicking off into the air. Jaken yelped, scrambling up to cling to his Armor. He set loose a series of apologies but Sesshomaru drowned the sound out. His grip on Tenseiga tightened, Maybe my death will teach you that.

Nothing would ever happen, not while he was around. But. If tragedy was to befall, if it truly was inevitable, his useless sword would finally come in handy.

-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾

My eyes felt like they had been sewen shut. Man, this was potentially the worst sleep I had ever gotten. My throat was dry and still kind of tasted like dirt, and my body ached like i had been thrown around until i was sore... which technically I was.

I tossed under the coarse bamboo mattress, the smell of the dying fire curling around the cottage. With the filtering sunlight, i could head the faint chirp of a morning bird outside. Everything about it was exactly like every other morning I had woken up to for the past 14 days.

My chest tightened. My fingers reached for Mrutunjai's hilt, slipping over the cold metal. If I say I wasn't scared I'd be lying. The truth was that I just wanted to curl up under the mattress until the bad part was over.

But i forced myself to move, Rin squirmed from the sudden movement.

One moment. I told myself. One chance.

I wouldn't know when it would come, but death would dawn for me today and all i could do was wait for it.

oh well.

-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾

After last night's confrontation Sesshomaru and Jaken had both disappeared.

I stretched my limbs out in the field, a stiff sort of pain ran along my muscles. To think what could be my last day would be more...

But we had spent the morning lazily, sleeping in until it was too hot and we absolutely had to crawl out of the cottage.

Even now as Rin and I sprawled under the shade of the grove, I felt lazy. My fingers reached for mrityunjay's hilt every few seconds. Just to remind myself that I was on a ticking clock. But the world around me was anything but anxious, The air thick with the smell of ripe fruit, a lazy breeze played around us. The two of us had eaten the tangerines until we couldn't, and sunk down into the grass.

Between the tangerine smell, i kept catching a whiff of a very strong odor. I groaned into my arm, "What the hell is that smell?" I asked, "Has the fruit gone bad?"

Rin continued to peel another one beside me, her fingers sticky from the juice. "Its the smell of gosberries!" She babbled "Don't they smell amazing wei? now that its time for them to be ripe the entire forest would be full of them!" she said handing me a neatly peeled tangerine,

The sickly sweet smell was making my head hurt, we didn't have gosberries in the east so i had no idea what that tasted like or what it was. But if they tasted anything like they smelled i was perfectly content never having any.

"I see." I mumbled,

"Can we go pick some?" she asked,

"No!" I yelled. Rin's face fell and I instantly felt guilty for raising my voice, "I mean... I'm too full with all the tangerines," I managed, "we'll go get those gooberries later."

"Gosberries."

I waved my hand, "Yes that."

There was no way I was taking Rin anywhere near the forest. Not when I knew certain death was coming. The sun was still high in the sky, it encased me with some relief, I had until the moon climbed up. And I could only hope Sesshomaru would be back by then.

I hadn't so much as seen Sesshomaru after last night. Not that I blamed him. He already had a horrible ego, and after last night, I had pretty much squashed out any chance of building anything with that mutt.

Rin continued to say something about gooberry stuffed fish and i lidded my eyes. The sun hot on my face. I knew If I sat up, the sweat would have drenched my entire back.

But the breeze that swept in now and then was pleasant enough to make me surprisingly comfortable. It was a good day for such a terrible prophecy.

Closing my eyes I could pretend I was back in the eastern lands, spending another lazy summer laying down in the crocus fields. Before my aunt Hathor found me and dragged me back home by my ear.

I felt the pang of pain on my knuckles as I remembered that old bat. She used to hack her demon bone whip on my knuckles for any misbehaviour, sometimes until the flesh would cleave and I could see the bone.

It had left scars across my hands I still had. I absently ran a finger over my knuckles, realising they were all smooth now.

I wondered how they would react to my death. Even if they did find my body, no one would recognise me. Not that they would mourn me if they did.

As much as my clan loved victory, they loved a bloody death even more. They would sing of them, embellishing tragic ends like they were the greatest achievements of a hero.

I was taught to yearn for a death like that. There was only one goal, chase glory all your life and never stop, but when death does stop you, make it so that they sing about it for eons.

I remembered my uncle ashtur, bot bellied with a spotted bald head. Nostrils flaring while he sang in his loud awful voice, his fingers slamming the traditional drums completely out of tune as he bellowed out verse after verse.

It was quiet the show if you were unlucky enough to witness it. After his 4th bottle of ashfire, the next thing he would reach for was the drums of some unfortunate court musician. It would send the younger ones giggling palms pressed to their ears. the court musicians who's drums he had confiscated, would line up behind him waiting dutifully. Their arms crossed eyes pinned to their feet because no one in their right mind tells Warlord Ashur, sea boiler, ocean churner that he can't sing.

And my uncle sang the death song of some long lost cousin.

the guts spewed out and the young lords entrails

went glopping down the throat of the whale.

man, I wouldn't even get a song. All of my past felt like a stranger's memory now. Incidents lived in a different life. Places, people, names, nothing that I could actually go back to. Nothing I could do other than just remember.

All the more reason to stay alive.

I pulled my eyes open, "hey Rin, have you ever heard about this whale yokai in the east?"

The silence that met the end of my sentence made me arc my neck towards her. was she sad about the gooberries?

"Rin?" I called out again.

The tangerine peels were scattered where she was moments ago. I blinked, sitting up. The wind made waves in the grass, the world around me as unsuspecting as it had been all morning. The horrid gosberry smell wafted around me as i felt the panic curl in my gut. In a breath, I picked mrutyunjai off the ground and dashed towards the forest.

-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾

The forest grove was heavy with the smell of ripe fruit, the tall Gos fruit trees swaying in a lazy breeze. the fucking gosberries smelled so bad, overly sweet, littering the forest trail in ugly splashes of orange. The shrubs were heavy with them, so many had over-ripened and dropped to the ground, their fuzzy skin ripped open with decay.

I ran through the striped barks as fast as I could, eyes scanning for even a glimpse of that child. The forest path was muddy, soft soil sinking under my feet. She just had to run away now. My heart hammered, sides cramping but I dared not stop.

This was bad. This was very very very bad.

I ran further into the forest, the canopy getting thicker with every step.

When the fuck did Rin get this defiant? who taught her that? scratch that, How did she even run this fast? I must have missed her for only a few minutes, how did-

My eye finally caught sight of her ribbon, sticking out like a curious robin on a branch. Blood roared in my ears as I paused. Eyes stilling on the worn kimono, too big for her frame, yellow and brown checks in all that green. Stupid. I thundered towards the undergrowth, anger rising until I could taste it in my mouth. Naive, careless, STUPID child.

calm down.

But my flaring anger drowned out any logical thought.

She didn't know.

I yanked her up by the collar of her kimono, "Rin!" I cried out, anger raging forward, only flaring more as she turned towards me unsuspectingly. She dropped her basket in surprise, the murky orange gosberries spilling at our feet. I shook her by her shoulders,

"What were you thinking????" I yelled out.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" I demanded, my voice still high.

Rin's mouth sagged, genuine shock flashed in her eyes,

"i thought-m I though" she gulped in a breath, trying to talk.

My legs felt like jelly as the adrenaline rush faded, i felt myself drop to my knees. It drained my anger, leaving behind relief and guilt. My fingers dug into her wiry arms, forcing her to look at me, "You must- never." I tried, my voice breaking as I steadied her, "No matter what, you cannot wander away like that Rin." I said, unable to keep my emotions at bay anymore. She had scared me. She had really, really scared me. "I might not be there next time-"

"Why do you talk like that?" she finally said, I watched her clench her fists as for the first time frustration pooled into her voice.

The reaction made me falter, Rin looked back with a stubbornness i hadn't seen before, "Why do you always talk like you're going to leave us again?"

Her words rang through the forest, stunning me into silence. My grip on her arms loosened, all I wanted was for her to not carry that weight. Wei's loss had gutted me when I had dozens of Ayakashi years on me. How do you weigh that loss in fleeting human years, gone in a blink? They must have to grieve all their lives.

I pursed my lips, "I'm sorry." I said finally.

I put a hand on her shoulder, "let's just go back and-."

There was a hiss, like fabric fizzing under acid.

The arrow that sizzled past us, lodged itself in the gos tree bark. The sound of it cutting through the air still rang between us as the other one sliced through my wrist.

The world around me slowed, I watched as Rin's eyes widened. Now slick with blood, my hand on her shoulder slipped and within a fraction of a second, both of us lurched backwards.

Everything slowed, growing hazy as if I was trying to remember a distant dream. I felt my breath grow hot under the sun, my heart hammering weakly in my chest.

Wait, wait. wait.

I watched Rin's face mirror mine as she spun to see what had happened. I tried to follow her gaze, my reaction painfully slow. Maybe it was just the realization that made me stumble. Maybe it was the poison-tipped arrow.

This wasn't promised. not now, please, not like this.

The sweet sap of the gosberies still waffled in the air.

"I told you not to shoot that close to the face didn't i?" a gruff voice called out.

He swatted the young boy holding the bow, "You'll fucking cost us 15 silvers on the price if you scar the face." He screeched at him.

three men.

one armed. One-

"WEI" Rin scream out as one of them dragged her back by her ankle. My vision hazed so badly that I could only piece together broken fragments. The colours of the forest bled into one another and i tried to reach out for her, but a strong grip yanked me back by my braid.

The sun was still high. The pain made me scream out. I was promised until the moon was out.

The one holding me up by the hair, was burly, with ugly stubby fingers, his grip painfully hard. And definitely illiterate enough to not know that you shouldn't go after someone who has a sword.

The burly one continued to yank up my hair, "how much would we get for this one? has a full set of teeth, that ought to be something-"

I pulled out Mrutunjai, spinning it up in a practiced arc. The swing wasn't powerful enough to gut him, but my sword sliced into his stomach. Not deadly enough to stop him, but it instantly loosened his grip on my hair. I pulled free of him and stumbled onto my feet. At once the world around me spun, my vision so blurry i could only make out silhouettes. This was too much. My body... this human body was shutting down.

"fucking hell she stabbed me!" Grabbing the wound on his stomach, the burly man pulled out his own short-sword. My grip on Mrutyunjai's hilt felt weak.

I had put it through too much. It wanted the rest it was promised in 14 moons, but i couldn't. Not like this. The tendons in my arms felt as if they were about to snap, the blood-slick hilt of my sword slipping. I grit my teeth, legs shaking violently from the exhaustion, No. I will not allow myself that moment of weakness, I can't.

I was the demi-god of the east, i was born from hellfire, I had taken down armies I could h-

But I wasn't her... The realization struck me for the first time.

I wasn't some demi god with a great destiny. Not anymore. He charged angrily, he way he wielded his sword was too unsophisticated, amateurish. But i still wouldn't win. I pulled mrutunjai forward, the sword weighing me down. The tip of my sword hung low, and it was taking all of my strength to keep it from touching the ground.

I was just Wei. Bony, ugly, mortal, weak. I thought, as i dodged through his haphazard attacks. The forgettable mountain girl that bleeds when she's cut and can't even lift up her own sword.

I had fought and fought and fought in this world like I still had my immortality. But I had finally worn it out. The man huffed angrily everytime he bought his sword down, my reactions were so sloppy that the ragged tip of his short sword kept snagging into my skin. I felt little bit like the boar i had killed.

Great beast slain in sport, great beast slain in leisure. Goddess of the moon, i prayed bitterly, is this your will?

This time when he raised the sword i saw the sunlight glow on the blade, in that moment i knew he wouldn't miss and I pulled up mrutyunjai with all my strength, the swords clanged together with a deafening sound, it rang through the grove, humming through my body and the forest around me fell completely silent.

The man's face was still contorted. Stuck mid-way in a scowl, the sword still raised in the air but unmoving. The moment that would have altered my destiny was as mundane as I was. No special power, no lighting falling from the heavens. There was nothing miraculous about the small opening in the undergrowth.

There it was, plain as day.

The chance mocked me so blatantly, that I could hardly believe it. This was the chance she gave me? The unyielding, all-powerful goddess of the moon, was asking me to run. A silent buzz rang in my ear,

if i take this chance... if i dash forward into the undergrowth...

They will not follow you, daughter of the hills, said the forest.

Run now and break free, said the sky.

the goddess herself granted you this.

choose it, said fate.

Take it and you live,

restored to your past glory, take it and you get your flames,

take it -

"WEI!" The sound of Rin's cry cut through the strange magic. I spun around to find her as the buzzing stopped and time flowed around me again. The burly man's sword swished down inches from my body and i aimed mrutunjai for his gut again. The blood splurged out as i cut out the wound deeper. That should keep him down.

The man holding her was still up ahead. Rin tried ferociously to wring away from his grip but he held on to her fast.

-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾Why did you do it Wei? I had asked her.-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾

The moment stood there for a millisecond as i made up my mind, a flap of a butterfly's wing and it was gone, dooming me to the original end of Manana's prophecy.

I could almost hear the gears of time shifting, clicking as I dashed past the undergrowth. The original prophecy grounding itself, rearranging my stars.

Damn my flames.

Damn my life.

Damn the fucking chance to alter fate.

Nothing matters if she doesn't live.

-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ When you knew what you happen to you? -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾

The one standing between me and Rin was the young boy. His skinny frame trembling as he tried to steady his bow and arrow. The arrow pointed at me as the burly one continued to howl with pain in the background. The smell of his blood and insides hung heavy with the gosberries. The bow string was drawn gaunt but the boy looked frozen with fear, wide eyes bewildered, still pinned on burly guy i had just cut open.

"SHOOT HER YOU FUCKING IDIOT." The man holding Rin screamed, The boy's jaw quivered as he shut his eyes. Oh no.

He jumped reactionarily, releasing the arrow while his eyes were still shut close. Thankfully, that's the only reason i managed to dodge it.

My movement was still so slow that the side of the arrow grated my face, cutting open my cheek. To dodge it i had to drop mrutunjai, but it didn't fucking matter, not anymore. My sword was nothing but an albatross hanging around my neck right now.

The boy barely registered the blow as i slammed into him, the arrows strapped to his back spilled out around us.

The impact knocked him off his feet. I dove for an arrowhead as his fingers dug into my shin, trying to drag me back but I kicked him off.

The man holding Rin was equally horrified, i pointed the arrowhead at him and arched it up like a knife. The sharp arrow tore through the flesh on his hand easily. He let out a harrowing scream as the blood splattered everywhere. It rained down on us, the splatter blinding me as well, but Rin managed to wring away from his grip. He howled out from the pain screaming profanities as he stumbled back, other hand pulling at the arrowhead lodged in his wrist.

Rin slipped from his grasp and I grabbed her by the shoulders. Her face hazed in my vision, intelligent eyes wide from the shock.

"Run." I mouthed to her, a singular thought echoed between us, "find him. Get Sesshomaru." Her mouth opened to argue and i gave her a knowing smile,

"I'll be right behind."

The silent look of determination she gave me told me that she would make it, that she would run until the grove opened into the clear sky, not stopping until she did find him.

But it would be too late by then.

The man's eyes widened, "No you don't!" he turned to sprint behind her but I dove forward again, pulling him back, with a chokehold, pinning him down into the earth. His grimy fingers tried to grab onto her collar, but slick from all the blood they slipped.

The bamboo sandal flew in the air as she almost tripped trying to make the run. The soft earth sinking under her weight. time slowed again as i watched her dash. Maybe it was poison, or the prophecy finally coming to its end, but as she ran, I saw the trees around her contorted, pulling her farther and farther away with every moment.

Pull them down, until the checked kimono is swallowed by the undergrowth. Hold the line, until I can't hear the hasty steps anymore.

Rin's figure disappeared and my grip faltered. Before i could get back on my feet, one of themtossed me off like I weighted nothing. i heard the crunch as i landed on my side. I groaned into the soft earth, my hands shaking as i tried to lift up my torso.

move. I told my body.

But she was too tired. And now that the one thing that was keeping her standing was comfortably away...

My palms skid on mud underneath them.

-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾Why did you run out there Wei ? I had asked her. Against a dying flame, within the walls of a moss covered shrine. -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾

-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾She had answered strangely, words in a language I knew, but their meaning completely alien. -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾

"NO you idiot don't!" one of them yelled alarmingly, but I just couldn't tell who was who anymore. The world around me had continued to grow darker and just like that, the first blow cut through my shoulder.

I knew by the touch of the blade that he had picked up my sword.

when I realised what will happen to the child, it was like my body acted on its own.

I realised the goddess had indeed kept her word. I had begged her to make sure he wouldn't get my flames, to do anything so that he can't carve out my heart. And with her divine cruelty, the goddess of the moon made sure Mrutyunjai drove through my heart.

-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ I'd do the same a hundred times over.-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾

My sword was as ruthless as always. It dug through my skin, tearing through my flesh until the tip lodged into the bark of a tree behind me. I felt the bark of the tree press against my back, the warm blood dribbling down my chin, the bitter coldness of my sword as it charred into my heart. He tried to drive it out, tear it through me again, but mrutunjai was too stubborn. My heart clamped around the blade, pinning me to the tree.

"Where's the child?" someone cried out overhead.

"Escaped." someone grumbled out. The voice came out grumbled until they drowned out completely.

-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ I'd have no regrets.-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾

The voice blurred into the song of the forest spirits. For a moment I wished there was more pain, something so horrifying that it would have seared its memory into my soul. So that i could have carried the scars of my mortal life, the feeling of being alive, into the afterlife. But there was just... nothing. My breath just continued to sink lower and lower in my chest. The ancient voices of the strange forest spirit sang around me in the language of the old, greeting death like an old friend.

The sun felt warm on my face, as i pulled my face up to look at the sunlight filtering through the canopy.

I could have laughed at the realisation.

I finally understand Wei, i thought. I finally do.

-̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾ -̶̨̛͍̣-̶͚̟̲̫̤̈̇̾

Sesshomaru smelled the blood before he saw the corpse.

Rin had looked hysterical, her checked kimono was soiled in blood. But none of it was her's. She pointed towards the grove haphazardly, tripping over her words. Jaken had run to her side at once, trying to coerce a straight answer. Sesshomaru felt the world around him slow.

What in the world?

It smelled Sap sweet, curling around in the humid evening air. Human blood. There was so much he could taste it. He knew in that moment that she hadn't survived.

He found her against the bark of a tree. The corpse was bathed in the evening sun, as it filtered through the canopy, washing her body in a pattern of leaves. The wind teased the strands of hair that had escaped her bun. Their lazy movement a contrast to the cold stillness of the body.

Sesshomaru found himself rooted to his spot. Behind him Jaken coaxed Rin's soft sobs.

There weren't many things that unnerved the daiyokai of the east. But this visual before him, chilled him to the bone. The girl wore a smile, kind and soft. Like she was smiling at him through her lidded eyes, as if they had shared a secret.

She had died.

Her own sword impaled through her chest, pinning her to the bark of the tree.

Like every human before her.

He had seen human's die before. He had greeted death in passing far too many times. But... this was...

It was all quiet, too quiet. The thump of her raging sword gone with her.

Why was it so hard for him to turn away?

Tenseiga trembled in his hands, he gripped the hilt hard, fangs slipping out from the frustration. He couldn't understand why he was feeling this way. It wasn't rage, it wasn't sadness, just- this absence that threatened to bring him to his knees and scream.

"L-lord Sesshomaru." Rin stuttered. "please, please bring her back."

Sesshomaru pulled out tenseiga wordlessly, this curious mountain girl was always too much trouble. Then why does her lifeless corpse make something move inside you?

He growled at his own thoughts. Slender fingers coiling around the hilt of the sword, just wake up and let me see that gaze again, He thought. The anger, the grin of a woman that should have been born with fangs. He held the tip of the sword over her chest and waited.

There was a nervous stillness in him he had never felt before. He waited for the green yokai to appear and carry her soul. All he had to do was slice through the yokai and it would bring her back that easily. that was the one use of this pathetic sword, that was the one thing he could do.

The Daiyokai of the west held the blade ready, pointed towards her body, waiting for the minions of the afterlife to show themselves.

But there was nothing.

The corpse looked hallowed out already, a broken shell no longer of any use. Empty like nothing ever lived through it.

no.

The tremble in Rin's voice, rang in his bones, "What's wrong?" she choked, "please.. p-please Lord S-Sesshomaru, just bring her back, you can bring her back, right?"

It was him, he was trembling.

it had failed him again. When it mattered the most it had failed. He had failed.

"how could this happen?" Jaken whispered out.

Rin dropped to her knees behind him, "i-if i hadn't run into the grove-" she sobbed out, her voice strained and tired, "if only i had-" she tried again but the words died in her mouth.

if only i had stayed.

what did it matter now? What he had feared had come true, the human girl had stayed too long and now after her death they were left gathering her bones. He was left alone, haunted by the life he so miserably couldn't protect. Wretched, cursed was this night of the blood moon.

Sesshomaru turned around, unable to keep his gaze on the corpse, "There's nothing to be done" He announced, "Let us leave then."

Jaken stilled, "B-but Lord Sesshomaru, we can't just-"

Sesshomaru bared his fangs and Jaken shut up at once. "We leave."

"no." Rin said, hurt flashing in her eyes. Jaken's jaw dropped. Sesshomaru's eyes narrowed, something like shock flooding his senses, this was the first time she had interjected him... ever.

"no?" he asked, venom slipping into his tone.

Rin's didn't falter one bit. "I want to give her a burial." She stated. Sesshomaru, stared at her defiance, unwavering, brazen and arrogant.

Looks like the mountain girl left her marks. The voice said. He growled at it's unwelcome comment. His amber eyes snapped back to Rin, "Do whatever you want." He said turning around, he stomped out of the grove, half hoping that Rin would apologise quickly and run after him. But he didn't hear a single footstep.

Now, you're bit of a fool aren't you, great daiyokai of the west? Sesshomaru pressed the budding voice in his mind. He didn't like the voices of the dead ringing in his head. But then again, the mountain girl was never the kind to shut up.

-------------------------

LORD this chapter was so heavy to write, smol pat on my back for powering through.

Ofcourse this isn't the end of the story, but i'm wonder what ya'll think will happen next heheh. I promise the next update will be quicker, I have already written most of it anyways. In the meantime THANKYOU FOR READING! XOXOXO

Tags @misspendragonsworld because you asked for the tag! <3333

#rin #inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inuyasha x kagome #sessho #sesshomaru x reader #se #sesshomaru imagine #sess #reader x sesshomaru #lord sesshomaru #sesshomaru #anti sessrin

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thelov3lybookworm · 15 days

Text

Gone Through Enough (part 4)

Day 4: Traditions

Summary: Unclaimed powers an untested high lords.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1412

A/n: uhh yea

@erisweekofficial

✨ENJOYYY✨

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

If there was something that was constant in Prythian, it was the flow of magic and the way it passed onto new heirs after a high lord’s death.

With every last, shivering breath the dying high lord took, with every drop of blood he bled, the magic returned to the land. It bled through the soil, racing against itself to reach the sacred altar, usually located at the highest peak in the court. The magic that had till now kept the court flourishing was drained and gathered in that one place until the new chosen heir would come along to claim the magic from the earth, and then in return, give back to nature from his own sanity.

Historically, hundreds of heirs had lost their mind trying to claim the magic because of the toll it took on them. Only the most strong willed, the most resilient remained standing, the only ones to see the new sun rise the next morning. And until the new high lord let the magic remain unclaimed, the court withered in silence.

The trees would start dying, the rivers stilling, the animals whimpering and burrowing among carcasses of their brethren. The rice fields drying, the grains infested with unwanted insects trying to survive without the sustenance provided by the mother.

The ritual was easy. Go to one of the highest levels that overlooked the whole court, claim the raw powers from the earth. Return it to the earth and hope the mother liked you enough to bless you with sanity after the whole ordeal.

Eris knew his duties. He had left a few hours after his sobbing in the arms of his childhood love stopped.

Now he just had to claim the powers, and then he would have everything he had ever craved. The power, the freedom, the chance at being someone better than the male who raised him.

But would he really have everything he ever wanted?

No, he knew he wouldn’t, considering he had seen George August instructing the servants on how to properly stack their bags on the carriage for their journey home the next morning.

Eris, of course, said nothing. He was already weakening, in a hurry to reach the darned hill. But even if he’d had the time, he did not think there was anything he could say or do to have them stay a little longer.

Those were the conditions stated, after all.

The day Eris had reached out to George, he had decided to place his trust on someone he barely knew, even as the risk that George would remain loyal loomed. But it turned out that he cared more about his family than Beron- which was surprising to Eris considering he was always surrounded by people that seemed too eager to please Beron, abandoning their families in the process- and a few well placed offers were enough to have George agreeing to help Eris.

Of course, he had only agreed on the condition that he or anyone in his family won’t be forced into being a courtier or obeying things they did not want to obey after Eris became high lord.

As Eris now made his way up the slope, his eyes fixed on the slightly glowing ring of stones carved with runes, he pushed all thoughts out of his mind, focusing on the crunch of leaves under his boots, the scent of pine invading his lungs.

There were no rules about which hill to perform the ritual on, as far as Eris was aware, but it was tradition to do it on this hill. And so here Eris was.

The sky was already fading from a deep orange to a softer shade of purple and pink, twisting to make a breathtaking painting on the canvas of sky, and Eris reached up his hands, pushing the buttons out of the holes in his jacket, ready to get this night over with.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Eris was not in his room when Y/n knocked on his doors, and it sent her into a panic so bad she started sweating out of every pore in her body. She ran through winding corridors and halls, and then finally, after asking around for the better part of an hour, one of the servants mentioned seeing Eris walking towards the forest.

She hurried to follow him, all sorts of ugly images taking root in her mind.

Was he still feeling guilty over what he did? Was he trying to get away from everyone to let his emotions loose? Was he okay?

Y/n knew Eris would feel guilty, would feel regret. Especially after the venomous words his father had thrown on him, even as he lay panting for his dying breaths.

Just those few words had shaken Y/n to her core, and in that moment as she stood watching Eris shove that jewel encrusted dagger into Beron’s throat, light glinting on the shiny blade and reflecting off of the gems, she realised she hadn’t even begun to understand what Eris had gone through.

She had been a child, just as he had been when she had begun tending to his bruises. But she had not ever thought about the impact the abuse would have had on the then young boy’s mind, how he would have been confused and scared, wondering why his father was so cruel when the father of his friend was so loving.

Sure, he was hurt physically and Y/n felt sad every time he sobbed to her, and more so when he didn't.

But she had never realised the toll it would have taken on his mind.

He must have wondered why his father had never loved him the way Y/n’s had loved her so dearly.

These things had been too complex for Y/n to comprehend a century back, but now that she did, she hated herself for not making sure Eris knew she cared for him.

After all, she did send him letters, but did she ever try to find out if he received them?

Sure, those mere words could not have been enough to heal a saddened, hurt soul, but maybe it could have at least proven to be some sort of soothing ointment.

Just as she was beginning to think he had returned to the palace, she stumbled upon a clearing, her lungs expanding in an effort to get enough air.

And there he stood, in only his fitted trousers, fire flowing from his hands to the ground and disappearing, like water on dry land.

His head snapped up, meeting her eyes as she stood there, frozen. his gaze burned with power she had never seen before, and it should have frightened her.

It didn't.

"Go back."

His voice was hoarse, choked, as if he had been screaming for hours.

She stepped forward, ignoring his order.

He bared his teeth in a sneer the closer she moved. "Go back, Y/n. that is an order."

Her body locked up at that, her legs straining to turn back. But she was not here to follow orders.

"I was worried."

"Leave."

"I thought you might-"

"Stop thinking then. Leave, Y/n."

"Stop forcing me to leave, Eris."

She snarled as she forced her limbs to move, to step closer still.

"I am not leaving, Eris. Not again."

His eyes softened, and she tripped forward, catching herself on his chest as the resistance evaporated into thin air. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, blood rushing to her face in embarrassment.

She lifted her head, meeting his eyes as one of his arms wrapped around her waist to steady her.

"I know, Y/n. But trust me, I can do this by myself. This is tradition-"

"Is it stated in your traditions that it is unacceptable to have a friend nearby when you are doing- whatever this is?" He sighed, and she continued, knowing she had won this argument. "Exactly. You have gone through enough, Eris. All by yourself. I will not let you do that anymore."

He met her gaze, vulnerability shining in his eyes.

But just as she thought he would force her to return, he nodded, and then let go of her. She stepped away, grabbing his free hand, and watched as his shoulders instantly slumped, as the fire flowing from his hands grew brighter and brighter, more powerful.

She stayed with him the whole night, hoping her presence was enough.

Maybe it was.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

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#eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #a court of mist and fury #mating bond #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #pro eris vanserra #acotar #erisweek2024

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slavonicrhapsody · 7 months

Note

If you don't mind me picking your brain, howdya think Rykard went from "ruthless justiciar" and head of the Inquisition to "These pagans are cool actually"

oh my god YES I was hoping someone would ask me about this one day because I think about this a lot

Essentially, I don’t think Rykard was ever truly an Erdtree zealot for several reasons.

Firstly, he has a unique background for someone who enforced Erdtree law: his mother is a legendary sorcerer, who once fought against the armies of the Erdtree in battle. Growing up as Rennala’s son, we know he distinguished himself as a talented glintstone sorcerer, an art once seen by the Erdtree forces as heretical. Basically, Rykard has heresy in his blood — I think his background gives him an inherent sympathy to other practices deemed heretical to the Golden Order. We know he developed an interest in reviving the “ancient hexes” of Mt. Gelmir, an interest which is specifically identified in the text as stemming from his mother’s influence:

“After discovering the ancient hexes of Gelmir, Rykard, son of Queen Rennala, brought them back into practical use as new forms of sorcery.”

Rykard comes from a long line of heretics, who instilled in him a sorcerer’s curiosity.

So why did Rykard become praetor in the first place? We don’t technically know at what point Radagon left Rennala, but I think it makes the most sense if Rykard was propelled to his position as praetor after his father became Elden Lord. While married to Rennala, Radagon was regarded as a “mere champion,” with Rykard and his siblings being royalty in Liurnia alone… it makes more sense that he’d rise to the position of chief justiciar in Altus after Radagon married Marika and he became a demigod step-child. Basically, he nepo-babied his way to a powerful government position… a position that gave him a prestigious reputation, a foothold in altus, and a standing army — more power than he ever could have achieved if he stayed in Liurnia, since his sister Ranni is stated to be the sole heir of Caria (Caria was likely matriarchal; it doesn’t seem like Ranni’s brothers stood to inherit much of anything).

There is also a relevant detail from the Blasphemous Claw description:

“On the night of the dire plot, Ranni rewarded Praetor Rykard with these traces. Should the coming trespass one day transpire, they would serve as a last-resort foil, allowing Rykard to challenge Maliketh the Black Blade, the black beast of Destined Death.”

Rykard colluding with Ranni before the Night of the Black Knives shows that Rykard’s later treason was not a spur-of-the-moment decision, but something pre-meditated. Ranni rewarding Rykard with traces of the Rune of Death with the intention to challenge Maliketh indicates that the siblings shared talks of treason leading up to this event — while Rykard was still praetor.

Rykard performed his job with brutal efficiency to the point that he garnered a “ruthless” reputation. But I don’t think he ever did this job out of pure loyalty to the Erdtree; rather, I think he did this job because he will do absolutely anything to achieve power and to gain the upper hand. I think he always intended to build up strength so that he could eventually topple the Golden Order which he so chafed under and place himself in charge; a “worthy sovereign.” And I believe that just as Rykard’s position as praetor was a means to this end, so too was his obsession with the Great Serpent — an obsession that spiraled out of control into “mere greed” for power.

#asks #elden ring #rykard #rykard lord of blasphemy #i agree with rykard’s soldiers that his reasoning behind taking down the gods is a noble pursuit #but what if rykard was always motivated by mere greed?#what if he supported the right cause for the wrong reasons?#what if his descent into madness wasn’t a tragic lapse of judgement but the natural conclusion of his deepest flaws?

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undeadmagick · 6 months

Text

☀️ introduction ☀️

Hello! I’m new and wanted to make an account dedicated to paganism and witchcraft and meet those with similar interests :) I’ve been a witch & pagan since around 2021 with Lady Freyja being one of my first deities to work with me!

(Will be updated as time goes)

Name: Kayn

Age: 20 yrs old

Pronouns: she/they

Sexuality/Gender: You have a better guess than I do

Astrology Signs: Sagittarius Sun, Libra Moon, Aries Rising

Currently Working With: Lady Freyja, Jörmungandr, Lord Hades, Lord Lucifer, Lord Apollo

Will Soon be Devoted to: Lord Apollo, Lord Hades

Will Soon Work With: N/A

Magickal Interests: Sigils, Crystals, Self-Love Spells, Meditation, Tarot, Glamour Magick, Protection Magick, Deity Work, Pyromancy, Runes, Sea Magick

Looking to Learn: Demonolatry, Necromancy, Death Magick, Osteomancy

Other Interests: Drawing & Painting, Horror Movies/Games (Until Dawn, Fran Bow, Texas Chainsaw Massacre), Makeup, Psychology

Some Important Posts:

Deity Guides: Jormungandr Deity Worship: Low Cost Offerings, Work v Worship, Divination Methods, Devotional Offerings, How my Deities Look, Moodboards: Apollo, Me&Hades&Apollo, Apollo(Musagetes Prayer), Deity Wallpapers, Freyja, Hephaestus, Hermes, Hades, Hedone, Hera, Lucifer

This is a safe space for LGBTQIA+, all races, all religions, and all people other than bigots. Obv DNI if you are racist, homophobic, ableist, anti-feminist, right-wing, transphobic, someone who pushes your religion onto others, etc.!!

#deity work #deity worship #magick #paganism #witchcraft #pagan #witchblr #witch community #deity #intro post #blog post #blog intro #pinned post

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half-deadmagicperson · 6 months

Text

Phic Phight '24 Phic 2

Title: Summoning Shenanigans

Words: 767

For @phicphight

Prompt by @five-rivers : For centuries, the cult has anticipated the glorious rise and return of Lord Phantom. That time is at hand. All they need to bring him fully into the mortal world is the perfect sacrifice: Danny Fenton.

Rating: G

Warning: One (1) cuss word

AO3

Low chanting filled a dark hall. People disguised in cloaks circled around the chalk markings on the floor. Ancient runes were spelled out to call for their lord. The head of the cult ordered for the sacrifice to be brought.

A black-haired teenager writhed around in the arms of two of their members. He was trying and failing to escape. Upon spotting the leader of the cult, the entire teenager’s demeanor shifted. Members who were close enough could see the boy’s calculating glare. When they arrived at the circle, the leader raised their hands to stop the chanting.

“The time is nigh for the return of our lord. For centuries we have waited to see signs of his presence. History tells of the mighty acts of the supreme, and there have been signs of his return near Amity Park, Illinois.”

The crowd murmured before the leader raised their hand again.

“However, in order for our supreme to ascend to the mortal plane, a sacrifice must be made! And who better a sacrifice than the son of those who want to hurt the supreme! Therefore, we are sacrificing Daniel James Fenton, son of ghost hunters, to be used as the conduit for our supreme leader, Lord Phantom of the Infinite Realms!” Their heavily modulated voice echoed, as cultists began to cheer.

Daniel’s eyes widened as the chanting and fire began. He scuffed his feet along the ground as the members dragged him into the circle. A small grin flashed on his face before smoke hid him from everyone’s view.

The ground split with green cracks of light. The sound of electricity crackling echoed off the walls. The cultists shook in fear as a bright halo of light appeared among the unearthly smoke. The leader screamed and disappeared into the smoke. Several members ran away from the spectacle, others were frozen in place.

Frost coated the ground as the smoke turned into snowflakes. As members scrambled and tripped over each other, one figure stood calmly in the middle of the circle.

Danny Fenton, in his tattered NASA hoodie and ripped jeans, watched the chaos unfolding around him. However, this was not the same person they sacrificed. A grin too wide to be human split the teenager’s face in two. His ears were pointed, and his eyes were glowing an acidic green.

Next to him, sat the leader trying to scramble away. Daniel, no, Phantom looked down at the person and ripped off their hood. A teenager with a bright mop of red hair quickly went to try and put his hood back up.

“Really, Wes? You went through all this trouble trying to prove your theories?” Fenton’s voice came out with static pops.

“Well, yeah? I thought you’d, like, use your powers before we did the actual sacrificing bit,” the voice was quiet and no longer modulated. The other cultists murmured to each other.

“You know, since I am an ‘immortal being your cult has been waiting centuries for’ it seems highly impossible for me to be a lowly highschooler, especially a low-life son of ghost hunters,” he turned towards the crowd,”Alright everyone! The show’s over, you should go home now.”

“But wait! What if he somehow time travels! What if that’s why he’s in different artifacts!” Wes pleaded, but everyone ignored him and started walking away. Once they all left, Fenton patted Weston on the shoulder.

“It’s okay Wes, I believe you,” he said with shit-eating grin before disappearing. Wes scowled.

“FENTON!”

A laugh echoed in the hall before fading, and Wes knew he was alone again. He sighed and started cleaning up. He worked really hard on that plan! Does Fenton know how hard it is to form a large congregation of believers?

He finishes cleaning before exiting the venue he rented. After making sure the door was locked, Wes started his car and went home.

~~~~~~~~~~

A confused college student popped out of the bathroom and walked into the main hall. The room was empty in sharp contrast to the large number of people gathered before. The student noticed a small device on the floor next to him. It looked like a voice modulator, like what their leader had. He grabbed the small box and tucked it into their cloak.

He knew what he had to do, he needed to find a better sacrifice for Lord Phantom, one that the entity will approve of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sir there has been a development. A teenager has imitated our organization, but even worse, they actually summoned our lord."

"Well, well, well, we may have to pay this teen a visit."

#danny phantom #dp #wes weston #phicphight #phic phight 2024

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 months

Text

Down Among the Dead Men

Bones in the Ocean Masterlist

CW: Captivity, creepy whumper, abusive parent, magical whump talk

Kira wore her body like a suit of armor beneath the old-fashioned dress she had been laced into.

She could have made a point, she supposed, by refusing to perform the spell. Refusing to give Lord Wentworth the prettied-up face he was planning to make his son’s wife - but really his own, unless she did what he wanted and remade the marks holding the siren in unending bondage.

The thought sent a chill down her spine, made bile rise in her throat.

She could have gone down the stairs in too-tight shoes, with her dress hanging wrongly off flat narrow hips and wrinkling over the missing bust it had been designed to politely emphasize, yet clinging too tight to wider shoulders. She could have sat hunched over and tipped her head so the light always hit just so along the angular jaw she had unwillingly grown into and its hint of five o’clock shadow.

She could have handed him all the harsher angles of masculinity she loathed and had worked so hard to learn how to undo every morning… but then she would not have gone down the stairs and towards the dining room feeling wholly herself.

She would have felt off-balance, and losing your balance in a fight meant a knife to your throat before you ever raised your sword. She knew that much.

She would not let Guilford Wentworth take away whatever advantage she had, and she certainly would not hand it over herself. Moving through the world in the body she wanted, the body that felt like hers, was the most important way she had protected herself in life. She needed that protection now.

Guilford Wentworth could stare all he wanted. His eyes could get no deeper than skin.

Not yet.

Not ever, she reminded herself, as nausea flipped and twisted, wiping away her hunger. Don’t let ‘yet’ be a word in your mind. Let it be not ever.

Kira Losna straightened her shoulders and spine, lifted her chin, and performed the spell. The intricate gestures that the spell required had been something she’d deciphered all on her own, and unlike nearly every other spell, she’d never had to use the paint to create it. She had always assumed it was because no one else had needed it as badly as she did, or maybe flattered herself with the idea that she was uniquely talented, but now… now, she wondered.

Was this wild magic? This shifting of shape, easing angles and encouraging curves?

Wild magic, the siren had called melting the fork in anger. Wild magic had been what he named the sense of heat in her palms that scorched the wall. Wild magic was the sort wielded by the children of gods, like the sirens who guarded oceans, dryads in the sprawling tai forests and the drendu in the rivers, the lumbering trolls in caves, the pahlomar in the thin air of the mountains to the far south… the children of the gods. Not… humans, whose magic has been stolen painstakingly through centuries of learning just the right symbols to pull its threads from the world around them. Wild magic was a power whose roots went deeper than trees and twisted through the currents of rivers, spread with the mycelium of fungi, spanned the huge breadth of the grand oceans and sang to the moon with wolves. Wild magic had been the siren’s birthright. The painted runes on the siren’s skin had twisted and corrupted that power from its natural state and made into a weapon in Guilford Wentworth’s hands.

Kira had never heard of such a thing before - and her heart went cold with horror any time she let herself think too long about how quickly men would leap upon the chance to take their own wild magic, if they knew it could be done. Humans had only what they could take, the inherent magic in them was so slight and faded it could do little more than warm a cup of coffee.

Then again, Kira had changed her body to suit her mind.

No one else had ever been able to do that, either.

Still, she was only human. Whatever strange magic Kira had must be something else. It was only that the siren knew only the one kind and couldn’t see beyond it. There were no humans with wild magic.

Were there?

Through all these thoughts, the servant girl Nadette had laced her up as if utterly unaware of her distraction. Nadette ignored how her hips suddenly curved out beneath her skirts, her bust filled the fabric, and acted as if she never saw the way Kira’s jaw softened. Maybe she had been spelled not to notice them by the siren on Lord Wentworth’s command. Or… maybe she was simply kind enough to see Kira as she was, not as birth had mistakenly formed her.

Instead, Nadette had been chatty, rambling with excitement about a new horse in the stables, a purebred that was all long lines and impressive speed. Bit of a bastard to handle, but the stableboy had him well in hand. “Lord Wentworth likes his horses spirited,” Nadette said brightly, finishing the laces carefully, ensuring Kira could still breathe well and deeply. “He likes them to be fighters.”

“Oh, does he?” Kira heard herself answer, her voice wobbling a little. Her thoughts raced ahead in time, threatening to drag her down.

“Oh, yes.” Nadette hummed, helping to pull the longer-sleeved overdress up, lightly belted at Kira’s narrow waist. It was all so… fussy. But Kira had to admit that it seemed somewhat difficult to stab someone through all these layers of boning and heavy fabric. “His lordship always says that if they don't fight back, then it's hardly worth the breaking of them. It is a harsh way to see them, I know, but his horses do all go on to win the races…”

Some part of Kira wanted to bark out harsh laughter, but she held it inside, staring at herself in the mirror. “That does sound like him,” She replied, her voice trembling with suppressed hysterical humor.

Nadette pulled her hair back and away from her face, caught with a ribbon that tried more or less in vain to contain the weight and wildness of it. Kira could only wish her the best.

Nadette stepped back, giving her a careful look up and down, and then smiled. “I think you’re ready. Should we go downstairs, Miss Losna? I believe the young men are already in the study waiting.”

Kira paused, turning to look at Nadette with her eyebrows slightly raised. “What? Young men?”

“Why, yes. Master Ford, of course-”

“Of course. Yes, I knew him, but who else? That b-... Lord Wentworth is not what I would call young…”

Nadette laughed. “Oh, he would not like to hear you say it so honestly! Indeed, Master Ford brought a friend over.” Nadette gave her an impish, winsome little smile. “Likely hoping to have someone close to take the measure of you, ma’am. One always hopes that one’s friends will get along well enough with their intended.”

The Ford she had met, by turns sullen and beseeching, seemed like he didn’t have a friend in the world. Kira tried to school her face, but wondered what other monsters she would have to meet here. What sort of friend Ford had who could be allowed to know what was being done here. What sort of evil person could be trusted to know she was held here against her will and still dine in style with Guilford Wentworth and his unwilling son?

“Of course,” She said, schooling voice and expression both into stillness. “Let’s go.”

Nadette fell in behind her as she stepped out into the hallway, walking past walls lined in paintings from over the past two centuries. Kira had to admit Guilford Wentworth was a slimy wretch who had an excellent eye for art. It was all beautiful. Landscapes of babbling brooks, mountains jutting harsh against the plain blue sky, children playing in rolling meadows and wheat fields seemed to blend all together with the occasional painting of a god’s child lingering in the shadows of its environment.

One of the dead wives was in a painting, and she paused briefly to look. The wife and the woman beside her had very different expressions as they sat for the painting, watching a young girl on the floor. Eliza, Kira thought - that one was Eliza, the first wife Guilford had taken for himself by magic, smiling with a dreamy, far-away look that seemed not to see the beautifully decorated drawing room around her, or even her own child. Beside her, the other woman. Her expression was darker, sharper, seeing clearly. Atabei, Kira reminded herself. Her name had been Atabei, the first magician to give him the siren.

“Will there-” Kira’s voice caught briefly in her throat, captured wholly by the look of something like the animal in a cage in Atabei’s face, masterfully writ in oil and brushstroke. “Will there be wine, at dinner, Nadette?”

She needed something to stop her hands from shaking. If there was no wine, she might scream, and scream, and never stop screaming.

Atabei’s eyes seemed to follow her as she moved. A chill down her spine and - she must be imagining it - a whisper of a smell like jessamine flowers from the colonies.

She would go mad here, surrounded by the women who had gone mad before her.

If there was no wine-

“I assume so, Miss Losna.” Nadette didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. “Shall I go ahead and pour you some?”

“Please,” Kira whispered, pathetically grateful. Atabei, she thought once again. Atabei, a woman knowing the very make of the bars of her cage but unable to undo the lock. Her future, reflected back at her from two centuries in the past.

Or perhaps she would be the pretty wife, Eliza with her dreamy far-away smile, her mind undone by the stroke of a brush and the siren’s song.

Her hands were shaking so badly that she could barely hold the wineglass as Nadette poured the deep red liquid into it. Her heart tried to race itself around her chest, and the world threatened ominously to spin.

Kira steadied herself as best she could and drained the cup in a few short gulps. She drank so much so fast she had to wipe drops from the corner of her mouth before they could run and stain her dress, bloodied tears.

“Thank you,” She said, hoarsely, and held the emptied glass out. “Another, please.”

Nadette paused, with the stem of the glass held carefully in her fingertips. Her eyebrows delicately raised in surprise. “Miss Losna…?”

“Please, Nadette.” She swallowed, her mouth already tacky with the overdone fruit-flavor, the wine too sweet, too heavy. But it was wine all the same. “Please.”

“... Yes, Miss Losna. Of course.” Nadette frowned, laying a hand on her arm. “Miss Losna, are you-”

She stopped.

Kira had looked away, unable to bear it if the pretty servant girl judged her for needing the courage wine could give. But now she looked back, and gods help them all… she saw as the contented fog that seemed to always cloud over Nadette’s eyes seemed to clear. “... Miss Losna-... Oh, oh no.” Nadette pulled back, eyes suddenly so wide Kira could see the white ringing them all around. Tears set them to glimmering like marbles with a spike of terror. “Oh-” Her voice was air, and then she grabbed back onto Kira’s arm with both hands, this time so tightly her fingernails pressed divots into Kira’s sleeves and the skin beneath. “Miss Losna, I-... I don’t want to be here-”

Hope bloomed in Kira, as painful and deadly as any blade through the ribs.

“I know,” She soothed, moving to peel back Nadette’s fingers one by one. “I know, it is the siren’s song, the magic. I know. The magic is fading, but it will take you over again soon. If you could just do one thing for me-”

Nadette didn’t quite seem to hear her. “I remember, Miss, I remember… it’s not a sea serpent at all! It’s-”

“I know!” Her voice was louder than she meant it to be, and Kira winced, pitching her voice to just above a whisper again. Warmth was in her cheeks and shoulders, the wine or the possibility of some escape from this beautiful hell. “I know,” She said again. “I know what he is. But listen, you must listen to me while you can hear me clearly, Nadette. Can you hear me clearly?”

Nadette swallowed, blinking back her tears. “I-... yes, Miss, I can hear you.” Her voice was thin and trembling, but her chin raised up, and Kira could have kissed her for that steel courage she showed beneath the fear that must feel all-encompassing.

“Wonderful. Listen to me closely. Go upstairs,” Kira whispered, her eyes flickering away towards the dining room, then back to the servant’s growing horrified comprehension. “Find me a window with no bars, one I can climb out of. Let me know which window it is. Write it down and put it under my pillow. I can fix this, I can free us all, but only with my tools and he has taken those from me and he will force me to remake the magic strong again. If I am not here, if I escape, he cannot do that and it will fade away and you will all be free. Find me a way out. Go, Nadette, please!”

Nadette did not move at first, only stood there. In a face that had gone ashen pale and a little green, two red spots glowed along her cheekbones. How long this break in the spell would last, Kira couldn’t begin to know. There was no time for Nadette’s terror. “You’ll leave? But-”

“Find the window! Go!” Kira grabbed her by the arm and shoved her back towards the stairway, and watched the girl take her skirts up in one hand and run.

Please, whoever may hear me when I pray, let the clarity last long enough.

She shouldn’t have turned her back on the door to the dining room. She felt his eyes on her before he even spoke, the slimy bastard. At least he would not surprise her. She was still struggling to get her breath under control, one hand over her stomach, when she felt the weight of his gaze.

“Miss Losna.” She could see a slick of oil on an ocean surface in his voice, hear it in the lilt of his falsely lordly accent. “Where is Nadette?”

Kira raised her chin and turned around, forcing her voice into a perfect calmness even as her heart raced too fast, left her dizzy for lack of air, her mouth tacky with the aftertaste of that terrible wine. “I sent her back to my room to bring me my book,” She lied, and somehow - thank the gods she believed in and the ones she didn’t - her voice was steady, even, and strong. “As I don’t intend to be much of a conversationalist, and whatever prisoner you kept before me was quite the reader.”

Guilford hummed, seemingly offended, and offered her his arm. Kira stared at it, then swept past him.

One thing to say about the heavy skirts, they absolutely made it easy to hold up your chin and feel as powerful as any queen as a man had to step out of your path to avoid being simply bowled over by their volume. Kira felt every bit of her womanhood, inside and out.

When she stepped into the dining room, Ford - seated facing her and with a glass of something that was very much not wine in his hand - pushed himself to his feet with a scrape of his chair, inclining his chin and leaning slightly forward. It wasn’t a bow, but it wasn’t not a bow either. “Miss Losna. You look lovely tonight.”

His voice was slightly slurred already with drink.

She envied him.

Seated just to the right of the head of the table was-

The siren.

Ah.

Ford’s friend. Just another spell, another bit of magic to hide from the servants what it was that truly gave Guilford Wentworth his power and influence.

The siren was slightly slumped in his seat, insolent hostility in his expression, although some of it faded as he looked up at her. He didn’t stand, or fake a bow. He didn’t even speak. All he did was look at her.

And yet it felt far warmer than Ford’s practiced manners.

“Good evening to you both,” She said, moving quickly so that Wentworth, who had come up behind her, had no reason to touch her to try and get her to move further into the room. She chose a chair and sat, graceless but it was worth it to catch a glimpse of Wentworth’s hand hovering, having expected to push her in and having lost his chance.

She saw something cold in his face. It was there and then gone, replaced by genial good humor, but Kira knew that look very, very well in certain men and women with ideas of what belonged to them. She was a toy not playing by his rules, and that could be a very dangerous kind of toy to be.

So she took a deep breath, until she felt the reassuring stability of the boning in her corset against her ribs - the strong lacing keeping her back upright. “What is being served tonight?” She asked, simply to break the silence.

“Mmmn, roast pork I believe,” Ford responded. His eyes were more than a little glassy, and she wondered when he’d begun drinking. Or if he ever really stopped. He was younger than Kira, he shouldn’t be living in his cups like this.

Except maybe that was his only way of surviving in this house.

Babbage came in, alongside two more servants whose names Kira hadn’t yet learned. All of them wore the same sweet, soft, fogged-over smiles that Eliza had worn in the painting of her. Before them all was settled a small bowl of a vibrant green puree with a spiral of white, lightly steaming. Kira could smell something garden-fresh.

“Spring pea soup,” Babbage announced. “With fresh cream.”

“Lovely,” Wentworth said, in the most genuine tone she’d heard him take yet. Kira, moving on pure thoughtless instinct, picked up her spoon, letting the green just touch the tip of the metal. Ford and Guilford picked their own spoons up as soon as she did and began sipping, Guilford humming happily and Ford clearly trying to sneak as many drinks from his glass as he could between bites of soup.

The siren stared at his bowl as if it might grow three heads and bite him.

She had to admit, once she gave in and lifted the spoon fully to her mouth, that the spring pea soup was indeed delicious.

Clearly, a very good cook indeed had been spelled into serving Guilford in his mansion.

“What do you think, Miss Losna?” Ford spoke formally, but there was a hint of a lazy smile on him. Being in the same room as his father hadn’t quite undone him. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” She said, refusing to look at Wentworth, knowing she’d see only the smug arrogance on him now. “It’s very good. How can you grow these? It is out of season for them.”

“Oh, we keep greenhouses so I may have the best whenever I want it.”

“... Of course. Well, it is delicious. I must have the recipe for when I head back to my home.”

Guilford Wentworth laughed. Ford’s hint of a smile faded and he looked down and away. Kira found herself idly wondering what Ford was like when his father’s gaze wasn’t on him, when he wasn’t in this house, this monument to Guilford Wentworth’s hold on a magic he should never have been able to touch.

“And so you shall,” Guilford announced cheerfully. “Once our business is concluded, of course, hm? And you?” He turned back to the siren. “Take a bite, Areyto.”

Areyto didn’t look at Wentworth at all - he was looking at Kira, openly and without a gentleman’s knowledge to keep his stare less than direct. He shifted uncomfortably even in the simple, loose shirt he was wearing, one hand twisting idly as the fabric on his other sleeve, picking at it with blunt nails she knew could just as quickly be vicious, sharp claws. His hand moved and picked up the spoon, pooled some liquid in it, brought it to his mouth. Kira watched him fight back a heave when he sipped. The spoon dropped back to the plate, splatters of green droplets across the soft pale white.

“Well,” Guilford said, playfully chiding. “That was quite rude, don’t you think?”

Areyto’s gaze darkened. “I do not eat your soups,” He said, something very like a growl underneath the human words. “Your food. You know that.”

Kira cleared her throat, leaning forward. “Lord Wentworth, may I ask-”

Wentworth’s expression had chilled at the siren’s insolence, but it warmed once he looked back at her, not quite leering. “Anything, my dear.”

She shuddered, and fought down her disgust. “I mean only to ask… what does-... he eat? If he doesn’t eat what you do?”

“Him?” Wentworth smiled. “Oh, we keep a pond well-stocked in the labyrinth. I’ve taken to calling it after one of my sons, who unfortunately drowned in it one night. Dreft Pond. It’s the word for three in the language they speak in Lahssa. His lovely wife had been born there, she called him Dreft as a bit of a pet name, I think. He had taken such a risk, night swimming alone… no one to hear you when you drown-”

There was a clang of metal against ceramic.

Kira jumped, and she and Guilford turned to see Ford looking wide-eyed not with fear, but with a fury that seemed to overtake him all at once. “How dare you,” He hissed.

Wentworth’s eyebrows raised. “I beg your pardon?”

“How dare you make light of what happened to him! How dare you mock my father right here in front of me!” Ford pushed his chair back and shoved himself to his face. “My father was a good swimmer, he knew never to swim alone at night, he knew!”

Guilford was a shark smelling blood. His eyes were gone from Kira in a flash, and entirely on Ford. He was playing at a father’s righteous anger but the smirk on his face gave away how much he enjoyed the excuse. “This is unbecoming. Sit, boy.”

“I am not a boy! I am a grown man, and I will not stand for your slander against one who cannot defend himself now!” Ford stayed standing, hands on the tabletop, glaring daggers at Lord Wentworth with a strength Kira hadn’t known he possessed. “If you want my good manners and my kneeling and my bullshit lies to match yours, then don’t talk about my father like that! He was a good man! He tried so hard to be a good man! And you-... you-”

“I said,” Guilford said, voice low and menacing now, ”Sit down. You will not be so rude before our guest. You will not spread such gossip. I am your father.”

“You’re not! You never were!” Ford’s words were less speech than a wail of anger, drawn out by the drink but fueled by a hatred that Kira couldn’t take her eyes off of. It burned in him like summer wildfires, all out of control, leaving only skeletons and ash behind. He picked up the glass, nearly emptied, he’d been drinking from, and threw it.

Guilford had to jerk his head to the side to avoid it - even drunk, Kira noted with admiration, Ford had wonderful aim - and it hit the wall behind him and shattered, liquid dripping down towards the floor.

“Ford!” Guilford’s voice was a roar, now, shocked out of his arrogant amusement. He stood also. Kira stayed seated, her heart racing, and looked at the siren for help.

He watched the two men, too, but without fear. Only with the expression of someone who had watched something like this before, over and over again, and knows how it will end.

Ford jabbed his finger in the air as if it were a sword. “You are not my father! You are the man who killed my father! He was your son! He, who you ordered to go into the water! Who you commanded your creature to feed on!”

Wentworth blinked. He went still. “What? How did you know-”

Ford laughed, hysterical and humorless. “You may have taken our mother’s memories of her husband, but you didn’t bother to take anything from Nathalie and I, did you? Didn’t even think of us as people who needed to be fooled!”

Wentworth was dumbfounded.

Kira found she enjoyed that very much.

Ford wasn’t done, though. He stalked down the length of the table until he stood only inches from Wentworth, on the other side of the siren’s chair, as if they kept the poor thing between them. “Tell me, are his bones still in the water? Are they? Did you command the siren to eat off all his skin, or was any left for the carrion feeders? Did my sister and I go to visit our father’s grave every time you told us to go and feed the fish? Did you think it was funny to have us do it? Did you laugh to see she and I at the very place where you murdered him?!”

Guilford swallowed, once. Twice. He seemed to be having some difficulty. “You will calm yourself-”

“No, I will not! I saw it all, you bastard.” Ford’s teeth were bared, as if he echoed the siren’s own anger even without the teeth to make the expression much of a threat. The siren, where he sat between them, looked… bored. But Ford’s finger was poking in the air again. “You, you ordered my mother to never remember her great love but you cared so little for my sister and I, you-... how dare you call me your son when you want to use me as you once used him!”

Wentworth stepped closer, and - with the siren still sitting down in his chair between the two men - slapped his son across the face with a crack that echoed through the room, harsh as thunder. Kira half expected it to rattle the windows.

The blow sent Ford sideways onto the tabletop, slamming into it so hard he seemed stunned, plates and wineglasses rattling. Kira’s wine spilled across the white tablecloth with a bloody stain, and Areyto’s soup spilled over the side of the bowl. Ford was breathing harshly as he pushed himself back up. His sleeve was soaking wet now from the spilled water, one side of his face nearly scarlet from the force with which Wentworth had hit him. He took in a breath.

“Oh,” Ford whispered. “I… I apologize. My outburst was… uncalled for.”

“You damn well should,” Wentworth said, voice low. Kira’s heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe.

“I… I shall take my leave,” Ford said in a strangled voice after a silence. “En-enjoy your dinner, Miss Losna. I-... I will tell Babbage I will finish in my room-”

“You will do no such thing,” Wentworth snapped. “Leave and starve.”

Ford stood, torn between instinctive obedience and whatever had propelled him to the fit of defiance in the first place. “I-”

“Get out of I shall have Areyto tell you to leave.”

Ford’s eyes went to the siren, who looked back at him impassively. Then he turned on his heel and stumbled from the room, hardly able to walk straight. Barely able to stand. Kira watched him go, and felt a wild, irrational urge to beg him not to leave her alone in here.

Not that he had much of a choice.

Even fewer choices than Kira herself had, really.

Something in Kira’s hint of hope faded as she watched Ford’s back disappear through the dining room doors and heard his shuffling, stumbling feet on the stairs.

“Disgraceful,” Wentworth muttered. “Absolutely disgraceful.” He seemed to come to some inner decision and sat back down, shaking his head as if shaking water from his ears. “He will regret that, later. Now.” He clapped his hands, one bright sound, and the door to the kitchens swung openly immediately and the three servants reappeared, nervously looking from one of them to another. “My son has chosen to leave early,” Wentworth said with false cheer. “Please clean up this mess and bring the next course, Babbage.”

“Of course, sir,” Babbage said, voice low, his eyes traveling over the debris on the table without comment.

Areyto alone looked wholly unmoved.

There was a long pause that drew out heavy as they waited for the dirtied things to be cleared and clean ones to replace them. The next course was set down, a bit of bread with a white cheese spread atop it, slices of tomato and basil on the side and a drizzle of something dark, sweet and sour. Kira’s pounding heart had taken all the room from her stomach.

Just as she thought she might scream just to break the silence, Guilford’s smile was back, as if nothing had ever happened. “Well, Miss Losna, you must tell me how the weather has been lately in your own hometown.”

Kira stared at him, her mind suddenly empty of everything but a confused screeching. “... what? The-... the weather? You want to talk about the weather?”

“The weather,” Guilford said brightly, “Or your upcoming wedding. You choose.”

A beat passed.

Then Kira exhaled, slowly.

“... The weather has been a little too warm this year…”

She had to find a way out of here, and soon.

Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee @angelsproject

#whump #original fiction #fantasy whump #magic whump #magical whump #original fantasy #writing #original writing #captivity #creepy whumper #nonhuman whumpee #multiple whumpees #defiant whumpee #siren whump #siren #male siren #worldbuilding funtimes there in the beginning #bones in the ocean #trans oc

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mac-tirs · 1 month

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the tarnished, loyal blade (sote spoilers)

i'm a little slow on the uptake admittedly, but it just occurred to me right now that there is actually a reason why this dialogue occurs. spoilers below the read more.

i always found it strange that miquella referred to us as his "loyal blade" because while, yes, we ARE the champion of the festival, we've never explicitly served miquella. most of us would've even ransacked the haligtree, his realm and seat of power, and killed his twin sister and half-siblings on our journey to ascending to lordship. we were never charmed by miquella either, unlike the others, and we directly oppose him by slaying his actual loyal followers, like leda, dane, and moore.

but then i thought about it, and yes, we ARE his loyal blade. we enacted his will not only in the lands between, but also in the land of shadow. we slew radahn and mohg, granting him his franken-consort. we became or will become elden lord, becoming the last scion of the old order that miquella seeks to overthrow. we softened the lands between up for a new ruler by wiping out the other shard bearers and allowing a god and lord-shaped vacuum to form, which miquella would have no trouble to fill.

we killed messmer, his half-brother and one of the last demigods, and romina, the saint that caused the spread of scarlet rot through communing with the god of rot, which likely led to malenia being cursed upon her birth.

we meticulously removed the various pawns and pieces on the board that would've prevented miquella from ascending to godhood. despite being a god cursed with nascency, fated to always fail, he actually did achieve godhood, and its all because of the decisions we made and the people we killed that he made it.

don't get me wrong, miquella exerted great effort to get to where he was, but we were on his heels from the moment we entered the shadow lands. he shatters his great rune, one of the last vestiges of his self that remained, potentially morethan halfway through our journey in the shadow lands, meaning he hadn't ascended to godhood yet before you approach the shadow keep or the land east of bonny village.

we are singlehandedly responsible for his rise to godhood. so i suppose it makes sense he'd see us as his loyal blade, even if we were the one to slay him in the end. we served him better unknowingly than most, if not all, of his loyal knights and followers.

#elden ring #elden ring rambles #elden ring lore #shadows of the erdtree #miquella the kind #starscourge radahn #promised consort radahn #mohg lord of blood

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formerly-wraith-caller · 1 year

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Fia's ending is not the restoration of a natural death : a theory

There are plenty of confusing things going on in the Elden Ring lore. Given that we learn it piecemeal through dialog, cut scenes,, and various item descriptions, it's understandable that we don't all end up with the same interpretation of what's happening. One thing I frequently see is the claim that Fia's ending, "The Age of the Duskborn", is a return of the balance of life and death to the Lands Between. I strongly disagree that this is what is being communicated by her ending, and would like to posit the opposite. It is the insertion of an alternative yet equally unnatural lifecycle, one of death unending.

🚨Spoilers Ahead🚨

So we can all agree on this much: Fia is allied with Those Who Live in Death. Per her dialog:

"I wished to be a mother to Those Who Live in Death. So it is that any loathing, any hatred that overshadows them, I must bear, as a matter of duty, with my own flesh."

"I am the guardian of Those Who Live in Death."

Her goal is to uplift TWLID from what she feels is persecution, and to lay with Godwyn and give him another life:

"We, who humbly live in Death live in waiting to one day welcome our Lord. What right does anyone have to object? Our Lord will rise, the Lord of the many and the meek."

"With [the cursemark], Godwyn can take his rightful place as First of the Dead, and claim a second, illustrious life."

"The new life of the golden prince, and first Dead of the demigods, as the rune of Those Who Live in Death. Please, do one thing for me. Brandish this child, my rune, and take for yourself the throne. Stay the persecution of Those Who Live in Death by becoming our Elden Lord."

What are Those Who Live in Death? Per the Skeletal Militiamen Ashes:

"These are the spirits of militiamen who live in Death, and will continue to rise again until properly finished off. This is the grotesque fate of those who come into contact with deathroot."

So we can take a few pertinent bits of information from this. Becoming one of TWLID is likely often involuntary. Corpses buried in the ground aren't going out huntiing for deathroot to rub up on, after all, and we know that the deathroot spread through the lands by infecting the Erdtree after Godwyn's half-death. I won't rule out the possibility that there are living people who voluntarily choose to become TWLID, but given that the majority (if not all) of the undead we encounter are at an advanced stage of decomposition, we can assume that's not terribly common. This is relevant because the nature of TWLID is a point of contention between Darian, Fia, and Rogier.

Darian describes TWLID in no uncertain terms as a blight upon the world:

"Those Who Live in Death fall outside the principles of the Golden Order. Their mere existenece sullies the guidance of gold, tainting its truth. And so it is the vermin must be exterminated, down to the very last."

They run counter to the tenets of the Golden Order. Death was sealed from the Lands Between, and souls of the dead are intended to return to the Erdtree. It's also worth noting that, well, TWLID aren't exactly a friendly bunch. The Skeletal Militiamen Ashes refer to their fate as "grotesque" for a reason, and they don't limit their aggression to the player character. We first encounter Darian apologizing to the body of a person killed by TWLID for being unable to give them their "proper rites".

Fia describes TWLID as "meek", yet their acts seem anything but. Darian describes them as vermin, yet the undead have no control over their fate. Interestingly, Rogier does not clearly throw his lot in with either of these ends of the spectrum, and claims to want to "save them". While it would seem that he feels the best way to do this involves working with Fia somehow, it's less clear what it means to him to save TWLID. He doesn't mention Fia (though she mentions him, making it plain they trade information), so it's harder to understand his motivations. It's tempting to think he wants to save the dead by integrating life within death the way Fia does, but I'd like to suggest an alternative: he wants to put them to a real, proper death. He is the midpoint between the extreme alternatives offered by D and Fia, extermination or prolilferation.

Rogier gives a little insight into what motivates him when he says:

"I've spent many an hour scouring the archives for knowledge of that fateful plot. The world has grown crooked, and if you intend to put it to rights, you'd better understand what happened to make it that way, hm?"

He isn't talking cursemarks and new overlords here, he is talking about understanding what broke everything to begin with. We don't hear talk about the might of the Golden Order(though he does spare it a little admiration in spite of his apparent heretical ties), nor about uplifting the meek undead, nor any reverence for the Prince of Death. In fact, Rogier refers to Godwyn's corpse as "that thing", hardly in line with the sort of respect Fia holds for Godwyn. In order to save the dead, he knows he first has to work out why they exist to begin with. He tells us that if he could inspect Ranni's cursemark, he will "have the answers [he has] sought for so long."

Of course we get a bit more of an explanation for Rogier's interests when we ask him why he wants the cursemark. He tells of us his desire to save TWLID, explaining that in his research he has discovered something of their nature. Again, I think this relates to the fact that TWLID didn't intentionally become what they are, coming into being by random chance through no fault of their own.

"These souls have committed no offense. They have every right to life, only, they happened to touch upon a flaw in the Order."

It's hard for me to decide what he means by this. The SOULS have committed no offense, but TWLID are what they are because they are bodies persisting without the soul. They have a right to life, but does this mean life within death? Or does it mean a proper death, so that they may be given back the life stolen from them when their souls couldn't be returned to the Erdtree due to their affliction as one of TWLID? Something pointed out to me by elden_things is that, in the original Japanese version of this part of his dialog, he says:

"They violated nothing. They only lived in earnest, and thus, they came in contact the law's flaw."

"They only lived in earnest" is A LOT different than "They have every right to life". One is simply understanding that TWLID are not necessarily malicious fiends but an unfortunate accidental byproduct of Godwyn's death, the other more explicitly sympathetic. Taking the Japanese version could lend more credence to the idea that Rogier is not necessarily advocating for the integration of life within death into the Order. He understands that the Order needs repaired, that it is broken, but also that it is able to adapt:

"In the past, [the Academy of Raya Lucaria] obeyed laws which contravened the Golden Order, or so I'm told. Fascinating, isn't it? That the Golden Order was pliable enough to absorb practices that contradicted itself in the past. With the Order broken, twisted, and in need of repair, such adaptability is more important now than ever."

Interestingly, Rogier doesn't ever deride the Golden Order the way Fia does (referring to them as "dogmatic brutes" seeking to deny Godwyn's ascension and, well, murdering Darian). He actually appears to admire its ability to change with the needs of the current age, and he doesn't talk about upending it or tearing it down, but repairing it. He feels this can be achieved by understanding the things that broke it to begin with. He must understand why TWLID exist, and to do that he must understand deathroot, and to do that, he must understand the nature of Godwyn's death, and to do that he must understand the cursemarks, and so on until we get to the knifeprint and the Night of the Black Knives itself, the genesis of the Shattering and the origin of TWLID. This is how ends up pointing us towards Ranni's cursemark, rather than Godwyn's. It's unclear if he knows Darian had the latter, but I personally assume he didn't, and that this is why he went to inspect the corpse beneath Stormveil. He wanted the cursemark for his research, and Darian knew better than to let anyone know what he had, especially Rogier who he would know was working alongside Fia at this point.

Returning to Fia's ending. Her story culminates in her fashioning the Mending Rune of the Death Prince. Right away its description can cause some confusion:

"Formed of the two hallowbrand half-wheels combined, it will embed the principle of life within Death into Order. The Golden Order was created by confining Destined Death. Thus, this new Order will be one of Death restored."

It's understandable to see the phrase "Death restored" and assume this means that people will be able to die naturally again whereas before they couldn't, both due to Marika's removal of the Rune of Death, and because of the curse of the deathroot causing TWLID. But let's back up to the first half of that item description: "it will embed the principle of life within Death into Order". So which is it? A restoration of real death, or the integration of the living dead into the Order of the world?

Reviewing Fia's dialog would strongly indicate the latter. She states she wants to be like a mother to them, a guardian, to bear the scorn they receive. She wants Godwyn to have a new, "illustrious" second life, calls for his rise as the Lord of the meek and many undead. If it were merely a matter of his second life as the mending rune putting the living dead to rest, how is that significantly different from what the Golden Order is doing with its hunters? Why oppose them instead of joining them in their quest to end TWLID if you both seek to give rest to the dead? The Order wants to "eradicate" them, but we see what this means in practice when we fight a Mariner alongside Darian: sanctifying the undead so they can't rise again, and weeding deathroot so more can't be made. In what way is this not being put to rest? Beyond that, what would Godwyn/the rune be lord of if his meek and many are dead and buried? What persecution needs to be stayed if there are no undead to receive mistreatment?

Then there's the actual cut scene from the Age of the Duskborn ending. Everything in grey shades and shrouded in mist, the light of the Erdtree dimmed, and most worthy of note, the swarms of flies at our Tarnished's feet. We've seen these flies before in the Deeproot Depths before Godwyn's body, as well as on Rogier when he's dying of deathblight. The flies are very heavily connected with deathroot and TWLID, another indication that this is not an ending of a peaceful and natural death, but the inclusion of the living dead in the world order. These same living dead who we have already established are unlikely to have chosen this fate for themselves. Is it really a mercy to be left to what the game itself refers to as a "grotesque" fate, one which you have no control over and don't choose for yourself?

A final nail in the "this is a return of true death" coffin for me is the simple fact that there already is a rune for giving people natural deaths. It's the Rune of Death, the same one the player can obtain from Maliketh. If Fia's intention was simply to give a peaceful death to people in a world plagued by the immortality given to it by Marika, wouldn't it be more sensible to seek this rune instead of fashioning a new one altogether, one that it kills her to create? (I know people believe Devin killed her, but I'm pretty confident she's already dead. She gives us a farewell before laying with Godwyn to create the rune, and talks to us like she won't be there when she asks us to take the rune, and the other two NPCs who fashion mending runes die in the process as well.)

If you've made it this far, feel free to share your thoughts. It's always interesting to read new perspectives, and I'm sure there are things I've missed or even totally misunderstood. There's a huge amount of information tucked away in this game and it's very exciting to learn something more about it.

#elden ring #elden ring meta #those who live in death #age of the duskborn #elden ring spoilers #fia #fia deathbed companion #sorcerer rogier #d hunter of the dead #godwyn the golden

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queer-book-character-tournament · 7 months

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Quality Control Time

okay everyone: realistically despite having read some since last tournament I can't have read all of these books as I am one person running a blog for funnies

so I'm posting a list after I've gone through the submissions and I'm counting on you guys to tell me if any of these submissions don't count (or if someone typoed something in the submission I didn't catch)

that said here are your (tentative) competitors:

Rune Saint-John- The Tarot Sequence by KD Edwards

Quinn Saint Nicholas- The Tarot Sequence by KD Edwards

Layne Dawncreek- The Hourglass Throne by KD Edwards

Silas Bell- The Spirit Bares it's Teeth by Andrew Joseph White

Daphne Luckenbill- The Spirit Bares it's Teeth by Andrew Joseph White

Benjamin/Benji Woodside- Hell Followed with us by Andrew Joseph White

Sideways Pike- The Spacegracers by HA Clarke

Tayend of Tremmelin- Magician’s Guild series (The Novice, The High Lord) by Trudi Canavan

Gideon Nav- The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir

Ianthe Tridenarius, Ianthe the First- The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir

Harrowhark Nonagesimus- The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir

Dekka- Gone series by Michael Grant

Therem Harth rem ir Estraven- The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin

Seregil í Korit Solun Meringil Bôkthersa- Luck in the shadows/the nightrunner series by Lynn Fleweling

Victor Vale- Vicious by VE Schwab

Alucard Emery- Shades of Magic series by VE Schwab

Rhy Maresh- Shades of Magic series by VE Schwab

Elliot Schafer- In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan

Sebastian Black- The Sacred Sins of Father Black by St John Starling

Father Victor Ardelian- What Manner of Man by St John Starling

Wenren È- Devil Venerable Also Wants To Know by Cyan Wings

Zhu Chongba- She Who Became The Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan

Ouyang- She Who Became The Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan

Giovanni- Giovanni's room by James Baldwin

David- Giovanni's room by James Baldwin

Danny Tozer- Dreadnought by April Daniels

Magnus Bane- The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare

Alec Lightwood- The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare

Thomas Lightwood- The Last Hours by Cassandra Clare

Alastair Carstairs- The Last Hours by Cassandra Clare

Alex Fierro-Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard series by Rick Riordan

Magnus Chase- Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard series by Rick Riordan

Nico di Angelo- The Sun and the Star by Rick Riordan

Frances Janvier- Radio Silence by Alice Oseman

Nick Nelson- Heartstopper by Alice Oseman

Charlie Spring- Heartstopper by Alice Oseman

Tori Spring- Solitaire by Alice Oseman

Gwen (Princess Gwendoline)- Gwen and Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher

Jack Alston/Lord Hawthorn- The Last Binding Trilogy by Freya Marske

Maud Blyth- The Last Binding Trilogy by Freya Marske

Robin Blyth- A Marvelous Light by Freya Marske

Silariathas “Silas”- Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson

Nathaniel Thorn- Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson

Ballister Blackheart- Nimona by N.D. Stevenson

Ambrosius Goldenloin- Nimona by N.D. Stevenson

Neil Josten- All for the game by Nora Sakavic

Andrew Minyard- All for the game by Nora Sakavic

Nicky Hemick- All for the game by Nora Sakavic

Xie Lian- Heaven Official's Blessing / Tian Guan Ci Fu by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu / mxtx

San Lang/ Hua Cheng- Heaven Official's Blessing / Tian Guan Ci Fu by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu / mxtx

Luo Binghe- The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu / mxtx

Shen Qingqiu- The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu / mxtx

Lan Wangji/ Lan Zhan/ Han Guang Jun- Mo Dao Zu Shi (The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu / mxtx

Wei WuXian/ Wei Ying/ Yiling Patriarch- Mo Dao Zu Shi (The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu / mxtx

Kelly Bennett- Heartsong by TJ Klune

Linus Baker- The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune

Arthur Parnassus- The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune

Laurent- Captive Prince by C.S. Pacat

Damianos (Damen)- Captive Prince by C.S. Pacat

Will Kempen- Dark Rise Series by C.S. Pacat

Sarcean- Dark Rise Series by C.S. Pacat

James St. Clair- Dark Rise Series by C.S. Pacat

Ronan Lynch- The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater

Adam Parrish- The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater

Loki- Loki- Where Mischief Lies by Mackenzi Lee

Theo Bell- Where Mischief Lies by Mackenzi Lee

Daniela- We Set the Dark on Fire by Tehlor Kay Mejia

Carmen- We Set the Dark on Fire by Tehlor Kay Mejia

Seonid Traighan Sedai- Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan

Siuan Sanche Sedai- Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan

Shallan Davar- The Stormlight Archive series by Brandon Sanderson

Jasnah Kholin- The Stormlight Archive series by Brandon Sanderson

Jesper Fahey- Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Wylan van Eck- Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Nina Zenik- Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Evelyn Hugo- The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Moiraine Damodred Sedai- The Wheel of Time Series by Robert Jordan

Yan Wushi- 千秋 /Thousand Autumns/Qian Qu by Meng Xi Shi

Shen Qiao- 千秋/Qian Qiu/Thousand Autumn by Meng Xi Shi

Alex Claremont-Diaz- Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor- Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

Biyu "Jane" Su- One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

August Landry- One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

Jolene Whitaker- Stars Still Fall by Jules Kelley

Jude St. Francis- A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

Francis Abernathy- The Secret History by Donna Tartt

Ishita Dey- Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating by Adiba Jaigirdar

Carmilla Karnstein- Carmilla by J Sheridan le Fanu

Murderbot- The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells

Shuos Jedao- Ninefox Gambit by Yoon Ha Lee

Achilles- Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Patroclus- Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Yin Hanjiang- Devil Venerable Also Wants To Know by Cyan Wings

Daja Kisubo- The Circle of Magic series, The Circle Opens series, The Will of the Empress by Tamora Pierce

Simon Torquill- October Daye Series by Seanan McGuire

Kade Bronson- Wayward Children Series by Seanan McGuire

Jack Wolcott- Wayward Children Series by Seanan McGuire

Sundew- Wings of Fire by Tui T Sutherland

Zanja Na'Tarwein- The Elemental Logic Series by Laurie J. Marks

Karis G'deon- The Elemental Logic series by Laurie J. Marks

Thaniel Steepleton- The Watchmaker of Filigree Street, The Lost Future of Pepperharrow by Natasha Pulley

Raff Barden- One Night in Hartswood by Emma Denny

Penn de Foucart- One Night in Hartswood by Emma Denny

Alec Campion- Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner

Richard St Vier- Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner

Nico Ferrer De Varona- The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

Parisa Kamali- The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

Sam Black Crow- American Gods by Neil Gaiman

Salim- American Gods by Neil Gaiman

Hunter- Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman

Islington- Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman

Tsukiko- The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

Zachary Ezra Rawlins- The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

Dorian- The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

Katrina- The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

Katherine- The Privilege of the Sword by Ellen Kushner

Geraldine- Christabel by Samuel Coleridge

Priya- The Jasmine Throne/The Oleander Sword by Tasha Suri

Malini- The Jasmine Throne/The Oleander Sword by Tasha Suri

Henry Gaunt- In Memoriam by Alice Winn

Sidney Ellwood - In Memoriam by Alice Winn

Benji Ovich- Beartown by Frederik Backman

Renly Baratheon- A Song of Ice and Fire (ASOIAF) by George R.R. Martin

Loras Tyrell- A Song of Ice and Fire (ASOIAF) by George R.R. Martin

Oberyn Martell- A Song of Ice and Fire (ASOIAF) by George R.R. Martin

Ellaria Sand- A Song of Ice and Fire (ASOIAF) by George R.R. Martin

Ead Duryan- The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

Thara Celehar- The Witness for the Dead by Katherine Addison

Iäna Pel-Thenhior- The Witness for the Dead by Katherine Addison

Vanyel Ashkevron- The Last Herald-Mage Series (Magic's Pawn, Magic's Price, Magic's Promise) by Mercedes Lackey

Galen- Paladin's Hope by T. Kingfisher

Doctor Piper- Paladin's Hope by T. Kingfisher

Eliot Waugh- The Magicians by Lev Grossman

Simon Spier- Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli

Bram Greenfield- Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli

Leah Burke- Leah on the Offbeat by Becky Albertalli

Abby Suso- Leah on the Offbeat by Becky Albertalli

Jay Gatsby- Self-Made Boys by Anna-Marie Mclemore

Harold Hutchins- Captain Underpants by Dav Pilkey

Eric "Bitty" Bittle- Check, Please! By Ngozi Ukazu

Jack Zimmermann- Check, Please! By Ngozi Ukazu

Ollie O'Meara- Check, Please! By Ngozi Ukazu

Pacer Wicks- Check, Please! By Ngozi Ukazu

Maurice Hall- Maurice by E.M. Forster

Alec Scudder- Maurice by E.M. Forster

Clive Durham- Maurice by E.M. Forster

Cal Stephanides- Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

Therese Belivet- Carol or The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith

Carol Aird- Carol or The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith

Baz Pitch- Carry On Series by Rainbow Rowell

Tennalhin (Tennal) Halkana- Ocean's Echo by Everina Maxwell

Evander (Andy) Mills- Lavendar House by Lev Ac Rosen

Kaiiestron (Kai) l, Prince of the Fourth House of the Underearth- Witch King by Martha Wells

Max Owen- Magical Boy by The Kao

Remy Pendergast- Silver Under Nightfall by Rin Chupeco

Ben De Backer- I Wish You All The Best by Mason Deaver

Nathan Allan- I Wish You All The Best by Mason Deaver

Genevieve Lefoux- The Parasol Protectorate series by Gail Carriger

Maddie Morrow- Havenfall by Sara Holland

Catherine St. Day- The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite

Lucy Muchelney- The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite

Fetter- The Saint of Bright Doors by Vajra Chandrasekera

Leonie Jackman- Her Majesty's Royal Coven by Juno Dawson

Red- This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

Blue- This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

Rose- Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle

Li Shimin- Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

Cliopher Mdang- The Hands of the Emperor by Victoria Goddard

Lily Hu- Last Night At The Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo

Patrick O’Hara- The Guncle by Steven Rowley

Ambrose Cusk- The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer

Kodiak Celius- The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer

#op speaks #ALMOST POLL TIME

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